


At Year's End

by Tennyo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Bi!Dean, Cas takes charge, Christmas Dinner, Christmas Party, Cuddle for Warmth, Frottage, Hypothermia, Intercrural Sex, Karaoke, M/M, Mary Winchester Lives, Masturbation, Mistletoe, Mutual Masturbation, New Year's Eve, Oral Sex, POV Dean Winchester, Prostate Massage, Watch two attractive assholes dance around each other and pretend to not fall in love, just a touch of angst, kindness of strangers, making out in cars with boys, third party confession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:12:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2848811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tennyo/pseuds/Tennyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Due to the expanding nature of this fic, the original title (Christmas Kindness) has been changed to reflect this.</p><p>Dean finds a guy passed out in a snowbank and thaws him out.<br/>Cas has been cast out of his home and has nowhere to stay.<br/>Dean ends up letting Cas hang out on his couch, at least through Christmas.<br/>He wasn't expecting the mutual attraction between them to grow into more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a quick Christmas porn. It got all plotty while I tried to get them in each other's pants. Chapter 1 runs through the end of Christmas Eve, sorry no porn here. It just got too long. And I wanted to post it before it actually turns Christmas here.  
> Chapter 2 was posted Christmas Day, with the promised porn. Now, I honestly have no idea how long this thing's going to run.

It’s about four in the morning when Dean pulls up to his apartment building. He’s still a little buzzed from the evening’s festivities, but good to drive. After turning off the engine, he sits in his seat, listening to the cooling engine tick. The Christmas party he’d gone to had been fun, but now it’s going to be awkward around Suzy, since he’d had sex with her in the bathroom. Ugh, he needs a shower, and sleep.

With a groan, Dean hauls himself from the Impala and looks around at the fresh layer of snow. Everything is quiet, and all the snow is reflecting the orange glow of streetlamps. He’s getting ready to head up the stairs to his apartment when he stops to look at a break in all the white. There’s a person, passed out in the snowbank next to the building. Holy shit, are they dead?

Dean rushes over to the figure sprawled out in the snow, and flips it over. It’s a man, and he’s only dressed in boots, jeans, and a thin windbreaker over a hoodie. That’s it. No heavy coat, no hat, gloves, or scarf. Dean shakes the guy gently and tries to rouse him. No luck. Leaning forward, he listens for breathing, and he can feel it, slow and faint, against his cheek. Time to get this dude inside.

He pulls him up, all limp noodle, and manages to get him over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Up the stairs they go, and Dan’s grateful he only has one flight to go. There’s a quick fumble with his keys at the front door, and then they’re inside, and Dean places the unconscious man on his couch.

 _Okay. What do I do now? Oh yeah, call 911_.  Except his phone is dead. _Shit_. Well, what can he remember from those safety classes?  Got him out of the cold, dude’s still breathing. You’re not supposed to rub the skin, and he’s gotta warm up gradually. Are his clothes supposed to come off? They are wet from the snow.

Dean looks down at the guy on his couch, the glow from a lamp casting a soft cast over his features. Dude’s got about two days worth of stubble, dark circles around his eyes, and his dark brown hair is sticking up everywhere. He’s got these almost comically wide, pale chapped lips, and a cleft chin. _Stop staring at the unconscious stranger on your couch, Dean, before he dies on it_.

With a bit of maneuvering, Dean gets the jacket and hoodie off Mister Comatose, leaving him in a worn, thin t-shirt. Next, the jeans. They’re baggy, so even though they’re wet, he gets them off easily enough. He can’t help but notice toned, muscular thighs as he pulls the clothing down. _At least dude’s wearing boxers_ , he thinks, as he pulls off the man’s shoes to remove the denim pooled around his ankles.

Grabbing the old afghan his mom gave him back when he’d first moved out on his own, Dean drapes it over the recumbent form and heads to his room for more blankets. Before he heads back out, Dean remembers to plug in his phone to charge. He gets the guy tucked under three blankets, and leans back on his heels. Dude still looks half dead. What if he’s too cold? Is he gonna have enough body heat to keep warm? Can’t get a warm drink in him if he’s unconscious, so… share body heat?

Dean stands up and takes off his own coat, which he’d completely forgotten he was still wearing. After a moment’s indecision, he strips down to just his boxers, and repositions the pile of blankets and the body underneath until he’d reclining across the couch, the unconscious man leaning back into him, and the blankets tucked in around them. Dean’s legs are bracketing the other man’s, and he presses his socked feet against the other’s foot-shaped blocks of ice.

A whiff of stale liquor is coming  from Mr. Comatose. _What? He’s gotta call him something_ , and Dean hopes the guy is just working off a bender. His hands end up lying gently against the guy’s sternum, and he can feel his slow breaths. He can also feel his heat being leached away by the human popsicle pressed against him. Eventually, their temperatures begin to regulate, and Dean starts warming up again.

He’s just beginning to doze when the guy he’s wrapped around starts to shiver. That’s a good sign, right? His whole body is trembling and tense, and Dean automatically begins whispering into that ridiculous head of hair, telling him to relax, that he’s got him, that everything’s gonna be fine. His thumb absently strokes the underside of a rib, and he can feel how thin the guy is. Maybe he’s homeless? But then how could he have survived until almost Christmas in this weather with just a light jacket?

Slowly, the shivering subsides, and the unconscious man’s breathing gets deeper, more regular. Dean breathes a sigh of relief, and squirms to get more comfortable. It’s not long before he falls asleep, arms still wrapped around the warming body in front of him.

*****

He wakes to flailing. There’s a moment of disorientation before Dean remembers the night before, and then he tries to subdue the panicking man only getting more tangled up in the blankets. They both fall off the couch with a thud. Stiff from cradling another body, Dean groans and stretches out a hand toward the man staring at him with wide,  incredibly blue eyes. Whoa.

“Hey, um… Chill, alright? Not gonna hurt ya, just gimme a minute to-” _pop_ There goes his knee, “stretch a bit.”

The man finally gets untangled from the nest of blankets and looks around desperately, until he spies his clothing tossed over the back of a chair. Breathing fast and shallow, he dashes over and grabs the items in his fists, and grimaces, because they’re all still cold and wet. Pale blue light is beginning to filter in through the curtains, and a glance at the clock tells Dean it’s almost 7 AM. He’s maybe only gotten a couple hours sleep. Great. The gravelly sound of a voice draws his attention, and the man he rescued is asking him something.

“What do you want from me?”

He’s still crouched down next to the chair, clothes in his fists and eyes narrowed in suspicion. Dean rubs a hand over his face. This is going to be one long-ass day.

“Dude, I hauled your frozen ass outta the snow last night. What were you doing out in nothing but a light jacket in this weather?”

The man’s eyes widen at that, and he looks down at the crumpled up clothes in his hands. He quickly drops the handful of jacket to go rummaging through his jeans to find his wallet, and riffles through it before sitting back on his heels with a sigh.

“See, man?” Dean says in as friendly a tone as possible, “I didn’t touch your stuff. Although now that I’m thinking about it, I should’ve looked to see if you have a medical condition or something.” He sits up and reaches out a hand, “I’m Dean.”

The man stares at the hand offered to him, then up at Dean’s face before a quick clasp and release. “Castiel,” he says softly, his eyes turned toward the floor.

“Uhh, Casteel?” What kind of name is that?

The guy rolls his eyes, “Cas-ti-EL.”

“Oh…” Dean ponders for a moment, “You mind if I just call you Cas?”

Cas frowns, and tries to stand up. “I really should be—” And promptly collapses back into the pile of blankets.

“Dude!” Dean rushes over, and Cas sits back up, hand to his head and unsteady. “You almost froze to death last night, after drinking, You probably shouldn’t go running around. Lemme go get you some water.”

Cas looks at him with those vivid blue eyes again, distrust clear on his face. “I’ll come with you.”

He tries to stand again, and makes it as far as sitting on the couch. Dean holds out a hand, offering assistance.

“If you’re coming in there with me, may as well get some breakfast, too.”

Cas grudgingly takes his hand, and strong fingers wrap around his palm. With Dean attentive at his elbow, Cas makes it to the kitchen and then promptly collapses in a chair with a huff. Dean goes to get two glasses, and he can feel those eyes on him while he lets the tap run a few seconds before filling them.

“So, Cas.” He sets both glasses of water down on the table and sits opposite the very grumpy looking man. “How’d you end up woefully underdressed, and at least slightly intoxicated in a snowdrift just outside my apartment building?”

The man grasps one of the water glasses and glares down at it, silent for a moment before answering, “I’d rather not say.”

Well, the guy’s got balls, Dean thinks, taking a long drink from his own glass. The sky outside is brighter now, and the sun will be rising any minute. He’ll have to be at work later in the morning, since the project he’s working on will need to warm up a bit before he can do any work. Time for some breakfast.

“You hungry, Cas? I can do some eggs and toast.”

Cas looks at Dean like he can’t quite figure him out, a puzzle where the pieces won’t fit. That’s OK. Let the guy sit and stew for a bit. Dean stands up and gets a pot of coffee brewing before rummaging around for a pan and eggs, and a loaf of bread, and butter.

“You know,” he calls over his shoulder while buttering slices of bread, “I was gonna call 911 for ya but my phone was dead. Luckily for you, I remembered some first-aid training from way back.”

The silence from the man at his table is almost palpable. While Dean is cracking eggs into the skillet, making sure to not burst any yolks, he hears that gravelly voice say softly, “I apologize for the inconvenience.”

He grins at that. “No, dude. I mean I was freaked out finding you in the snow face-first, thought you were dead. But,” He places a lid over the skillet to hold in the heat, “knowing you made it through alright is great. If I hadn’t been coming home that late, or if I hadn’t noticed you, it might be a different story.”

Dean often wonders if things happen for a reason. Like last night, Suzy had offered for him to stay the night. But while their little romp in the bathroom was fun, he didn’t want any more than that. Staying might have sent the wrong signals. And God, if he hadn’t noticed Cas, would he ever forgive himself, knowing he passed right by the guy the night before? Oh, right, that reminds him. Dean never got his shower last night, and now he’s beginning to smell how ripe he is. First breakfast, then shower. And he’s still gotta figure out what to do with Cas. Maybe loan him some clothes?

By the time Dean has plated their breakfasts, two eggs over medium each, the yolks still a little runny, and toast on the side, Cas has finished his glass of water, and is giving the coffeemaker a hot stare. Dean sets down Cas’ plate in front of him, and that stare turns to Dean. _Hello_. It causes a little swooping feeling low in his belly, because even grumpy, the dude’s kinda hot. Like, he’s not your typical perfectly-proportioned hunk, but something about those really wide, chapped, pale lips, the way that one eyebrow seems to have a mind of its own, his crazy, sticking up everywhere hair, the intense stare… it just seems to be really doing it for him. Especially when he watches Cas lick his lips at the sight of breakfast. And what the hell? His face just falls, like someone kicked his puppy.

“Dude, sorry, I should’ve asked how you wanted them, or if you even liked eggs.”

Dean leans in to grab the plate, and Cas’ hand clamps on to his wrist.

“No, this is perfect, thank you. I just…” Right then, about ten different emotions seem to pass across the guy’s face all at once, and then he looks back up at Dean, kind of lost. “Could I ask for some coffee as well?” he whispers.

After Dean gets him a mug full of brew, and settles down to his own breakfast, they eat in companionable silence. Cas does this weird thing where he flips an egg onto a piece of toast, then folds the whole thing in half and eats it like a folded sandwich. The second egg, a little bit of yolk drips out the back of the toast and onto the side of his hand. Watching Cas lick at it with his tongue and then suck at it… Dean intensely stares at his own toast, mopping up the sloppy yolks on his own plate. Oh yeah, this guy just does _things_ to him. By the time Dean finishes his breakfast, he looks up to see Cas eyeballing the last of the toast. Two eggs and some toast really isn’t a very big breakfast, and the guy’s obviously still hungry.

“You wanna finish that for me? I’m not gonna eat it.” And those blue eyes are on him again, warming him up from the middle out. “I have some jelly in the fridge if you’d like that.” Oh hell, he does this hopeful little pout with his mouth, and Dean about melts. “Lemme get it for ya.”

When he hands over the jar of grape Smucker’s and a butter knife, the look on Cas’ face is… warm. It’s the only way he can describe it. Just then, he hears a familiar guitar riff coming from his bedroom. He tells Cas he’ll be right back, and runs to grab the phone. The name on the display makes him smile.

“Y’ello.”

“Hey, Dean. How’s it going?”

“Not bad, Sammy. You doing okay with the girlfriend's parents?”

Dean’s younger brother Sam, currently in law school, decided to go spend Christmas with his girlfriend’s family this year. The boy’s got it bad. He can practically hear the heart eyes over the phone whenever he talks about her. While Sam’s busy telling him all about his visit, Dean gathers some clothes for a shower, and after a quick moment of deliberation, grabs some for Cas, too. He’s rummaging through the hallway closet for towels when Sam says he’s got to go.

“All right, Sammy, I’ll talk to you soon. Yup, love you too, Bye.”

He has the phone in one hand, a towel in the other, and looks up to see Cas in the doorway, with a saddened expression. What’s that about?

“Hey, I was gonna get a shower, but if you want one first I was gonna loan you some—”

And Cas’ face falls completely, practically collapses. “I’m sorry, you’ve been kind enough, and I’m interfering. Surely if I stay any longer someone might misunderstand…”

He heads into the living room, Dean trailing behind. He’s trying to pull on his still-damp jeans, and Dean rests a hand on one of his, and that makes him jump.

“Dude, I dunno what made you skittish again, but it’s completely okay to borrow some clothes.”

Cas looks at him confused, “It’s not that, I can’t possibly take advantage…”

“Chill out, man, you can’t go back out in wet clothes, at least let me wash them.”

Cas’ face grows panicked, and he yanks on his socks, “N-no, it’s perfectly fine, I’ll just be on my way…”

“Dude! You still only have a light jacket, and it’s freezing outside! At least let me drive you home on my way to work.” Dean couldn’t help but notice when he said “home”, the kicked in look and slight flinch. Cas pulls on his hoodie and zips it up with a shaking hand, and he’s reaching for his shoes when Dean grabs his arm.

“You know I’m not expecting anything from you, right? I dunno what you’re thinking right now, but I’m just a guy trying to do you a solid, got it?” Cas turns his resigned, sad eyes to him, and damn it if just about every protective instinct in Dean’s body isn’t pinging right now.

“I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble between you and… er… your, lover?”

Okay, that’s it, dude froze a couple too many brain cells out there in the snowbank.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Cas stares down at his feet, “I didn’t mean to overhear, but you were telling a Sammy that you loved them. On the phone.”

Dean stares blankly at him for a couple of seconds, before an ungraceful snort erupts from him. “That’s,” he pauses to snort again and take a deep breath, “The thought of Sammy and me…” He can’t hold it anymore, and bursts out into full-out laughter. “I’m sorry, it’s just….” The look on Cas’ face says he definitely has no idea what’s so funny, and Dean tries to sober his own expression. “Dude, we’re _brothers_. “The thought of me and Sammy…” He scrunches up his face and suppresses a shiver, “That's just sick. Sorry, you didn’t know, but still.”

“I apologize for making assumptions.”

Dean grabs him by the shoulder and sets him down on the couch.

“Look, If I’m reading things right, you don’t have anywhere to go, do you.”

Cas looks down and shakes his head.

“Well, other than being someone who wears not enough layers in the middle of winter, and passes out in snowbanks, you don’t seem like a terrible guy, so you wanna stay here for a bit?

“I couldn’t impose any further…”

“You’re not imposing if I offer. I understand what it’s like to be in situations, and you are definitely in a situation. I gotta get ready for work. Feel free to take a shower, change into some clean, dry clothes, watch a little TV, and I’ll be home this evening. Then, if you like, you can tell me your story?”

Cas solemnly nods, and Dean claps him on the shoulder before rushing off to get ready for work. With an admonition to not burn the house down, Dean goes to work over at Singer Auto, where  he’s in the middle of prepping a paint job on a restoration.

The day drags on as Dean does his job. He wonders about Cas, where he came from, if he’ll still be there when Dean gets home. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, and Bobby told everyone that unless they were desperate for the extra pay, to take the day off. Dean’s glad for the extra time, and he has made arrangements to help his mom wrap presents and prep for the Christmas party. By the end of the work day, he’s ready to beat Garth with a tire iron if he has to hear “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” out of that mouth one more time.

When Dean gets home, he finds the living room empty, and sighs. Well, what was he really expecting? Cas is a stranger, and Dean should be lucky that all his stuff is still here. As he toes off his boots, he hears a noise from the kitchen and goes to investigate. There’s Cas at the stove, stirring a pot with a spoon.

“Hello, Dean.”

He’s had a shower, and is wearing the faded jeans and gray henley Dean set aside for him. He looks a lot better than he did this morning. Although, the way Dean’s clothes hang off of him makes Cas look even more… lost. Cas waves him toward the table, and places a sandwich in front of him.

“I know it’s not much, but the grocery store isn’t far, and so…” Cas blushes, “Please accept this sandwich as a gesture of my gratitude.” He rushes back to the stove to ladle out a bowlful of soup, and carefully brings it to the table, “The soup is from your pantry. I hope you don’t mind.”

Dean’s already taken a couple of bites of sandwich, and says with his mouth full, “It’s cool dude, thanks.” It’s just a ham and cheese sandwich, but it tastes awesome. He swallows his mouthful and waves at the other end of the table, “You gonna eat, or just watch me?” Cas blushes again, and damn if it doesn’t make the pit of Dean’s stomach start doing flips.

While Cas is getting his own bowlful, Dean heads to the fridge and pulls out a beer. He waggles the bottle at Cas, asking if he wants one, but the guy shakes his head. Dean sticks his head back in the fridge.

“I got Dr. Pepper, Dew, OJ, milk?”

“Just water will be fine, thank you.”

With a shrug, Dean heads back to his seat and twists the lid off his bottle and takes a swig. Once again, they eat in relative silence. Dean has a ton of questions he wants to ask Cas, but the man is determined to keep his eyes on his meal. It makes Dean overly conscious of the noises he makes while eating.

When they’re finished, Cas tries to clear the table, but Dean wrests the bowl from his hands.

“You made it, so I’ll clean up.”

“But it’s the least I can do…”

“Nuh uh, zip it. Sit down and chill. I got this.”

While he’s loading the dishwasher, Dean finally notices a box sitting on the kitchen counter. It’s from Palo Alto, California. Sammy sent him a package!

“Hey, when did this get here?”

Cas looks up from where he’d been sitting with his hands in his lap. “It came early this afternoon. It required a signature, so I hope you don’t mi—”

“Dude, chill. It’s cool, thanks.”

As soon as the dishwasher is running, Dean grabs a pair of scissors to slit open the tape holding the box closed. What’s inside is… Sammy, you little _fucker_. Dean pulls out one of those singing and dancing Christmas trees. It’s got arms, eyes, and a fucking Santa hat perched on top. With a groan, Dean rubs a hand over his face. And to think he’d sent Sam a Barnes  & Noble gift card.

Cas looks at it with a dubious expression, “What is it?”

Dean looks at him with a blank stare, reaches over and squeezes one of the tree’s “hands”. The whole thing spins in place, and guitar for “Jingle Bell Rock” erupts from it. When the vocals start, the tree does some kind of mechanical hula. It’s ridiculous. Cas looks almost offended by its presence, and Dean can’t help but silently chuckle at him a bit. When the noise and motion finally stops, Cas blinks at the thing.

“That was… um,”

A full smile creeps over Dean’s face, “It’s a joke gift, Cas. Sam’s being a turd.”

“I see.” Cas still doesn’t look convinced.

“C’mon, let’s leave this thing here, and go see what’s on TV.”

He leads Cas to the living room, and he notices the blankets have been neatly folded over the back of the couch. Dean flops down and turns on the TV, and Cas stands awkwardly next to the other end of the couch.

“Dude, you can sit down, you know.”

Just in case, Dean scoots so that he’s up against the other arm, to make Cas less uncomfortable about sharing the couch. Cas continues to stand there, wringing his hands.

“I don’t… usually watch television.”

Oh. Dean turns off the TV, and pats the available seat on the couch, and Cas slowly sits there.

“Okay, look,” Dean starts, “You know I’m helping you out and it’s totally cool and all, but you gotta tell me what’s up with your situation here.”

Cas shifts uncomfortably, and finally raises his eyes to Dean’s.  “It’s only fair I tell you my story.”

He tells Dean about living in a religious community, and how his family was raised with very strict rules. He’s always been a dutiful son, and did as his father and brothers told him. But he had a secret. Even though outwardly Castiel did all he could to be a dutiful son, he discovered he was attracted to men. He tried to fight it, he prayed, asking for a way to fix this sinful deviation within himself.

Over the summer, he met a man, Balthazar, who tempted him. Castiel tried to deny his urges, sure that this was a trial. But after months of resisting, he finally gave into a single kiss, and they were seen. His punishment involved seclusion, and daily sessions with the community elders, as if lectures and prayer could purge the wrongness from him. Nothing worked, and eventually his family cast him out.

He had been riding the bus, unsure of his destination but travelling far from home, when his possessions were stolen while he was sleeping. He only still has his wallet because it was in his pocket at the time. Despondent, Castiel loitered at a drugstore until he was chased out. A homeless man shared a strong alcoholic beverage with him, but he soon wandered off. He doesn’t remember how he wound up near Dean’s apartments, he just remembers being so very cold.

Dean sat and listened to all of it, with his hands tightened to fists on his knees, a muscle in his jaw jumping from the effort of clenching his teeth in anger. His family, no, his whole community kicked him out for being queer? Dean’s anger bubbles just under the surface as he continues to listen, and he remembers coming out as bi to his own family. His dad hadn’t taken it too well, but Mom and Sam have been nothing but supportive. To imagine that Cas was told there was something wrong with him…

Realizing Cas has stopped talking, Dean looks up and notices the completely defeated look that Cas is wearing. It’s not just the fallen expression, but it’s the slump of his shoulders, the curve of his spine. Cas stares at his own hands, one clasped around the other tightly.

“I should go,” he whispers, “You’ve been too kind, and I wasn’t truthful with you from the start. I’ll go change into my own clothing and leave you be.”

Dean reaches out and grabs Cas’ wrist before he can get up off the couch. “Don’t,” he chokes out, “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, regardless of what your family told you.” He looks into Cas’ eyes, “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Cas looks back at him, stunned. “But, but I…”

“No, Cas.” Dean turns to face him, “Since we’re being truthful, I should tell you a little bit more about myself. I like women. I like men, too.” He sees Cas’ automatic recoil at his statement. “And you know what? There’s nothing wrong with me. My family loves and supports me, and who I get with is nobody’s business.”

They sit there is silence, while Cas processes all this. After a long while, it becomes awkward.

“Hey, Cas,” He gets him to look up, “You’ve been asking for God or whatever to help you with this, right?”

Cas nods.

“Well, maybe this was supposed to happen, like a sign or something. What are the chances that the person to help you out when you needed it most would be queer, too?”

With a smile, Dean watches as Cas works through it in his own head, before the lightbulb goes off. There’s still a look of doubt, and Dean dips his head to get Cas’ attention.

“You need a new start, and I’m telling you that you can hang here and get it. You can stay with me, until things work out, alright?”

A startled and worried look flashed across Cas’ features.

“And before you go thinking sideways, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Dean holds his hands up, “Your virtue is safe with me.” Even though Cas is kinda hot, Dean can control himself, if it means that this guy can become more comfortable in his own skin.

Cas’ face transforms with a look of wonder, and Dean turns to look at the TV, as he hits the power button on the remote.

“Now, let’s see what’s on TV.”

They sit and watch television, with Cas asking questions and Dean answering them. It’s mostly Christmas specials showing, and Dean is kind of taken aback that Cas never saw Rudolph, or Frosty, or pretty much any of the shows Dean grew up with. Over the course of the evening, the TV plays on, muted in the background, and the two men  talk until late. Dean finds out that Cas is a couple years older than him, and his last name is Collins. He’s got a whole bunch of brothers, and sisters, and cousins, and they’re pretty much all dicks, as far as Dean’s concerned.

Dean tells Cas about his own family, Mom and Dad, Sammy, about how his dad passed a couple years ago from a heart attack, and the extended family that surrounds him; with Bobby, the owner of Singer Auto, Ellen and her daughter Jo, who run the Roadhouse bar and grill. Cas tells Dean about beekeeping, and Dean talks about restoring his car. They talk until both sides of the conversation are punctuated with frequent yawns. It’s after midnight, and it’s been a really long day.

Dean stretches, and hauls himself up off the couch. “Hey, um…” Cas looks up at him expectantly, “Tomorrow, I’m supposed to help my mom with some Christmas stuff. You wanna come with?”

Cas blinks at him in surprise, “If it’s not an imposition.”

Dean gives a half smile, “Nah, if anything, Mom will be thrilled to have more free labor. She’ll keep you fed, though.”

“Then I would be delighted to join you tomorrow.”

For some reason, Dean starts blushing, and he turns away. “Great. Then we’ll head out after breakfast tomorrow.”

*****

It’s way too early in the morning when Dean is teased awake with the smell of bacon. He groggily drags himself out of the bed and to the bathroom before stumbling into the kitchen, to see Cas at the stove, with a hand dowel tucked into the waistband of his pants. There’s a plateful of bacon, biscuits stacked up on another, and Cas is frying eggs. The coffeepot is full, and calling to Dean with its siren song. If this is what having a roommate is like, then Cas can stay around as long as he wishes.

After breakfast, Dean takes a quick shower, and both men head over to Dean’s family home. Dean introduces Cas to his mom as a friend who’s visiting from out of town. It’s technically not a lie, and after some awkward stumbling, Cas runs with it. Cas is drafted to the kitchen to work on cookies, while Dean’s wrangled into gift wrapping. He goes upstairs to see Jo, up to her elbows in wrapping paper, ribbons, and tape. His mom helps organize a charity that gives presents to the local orphanage, and every single present has to be wrapped for the kids before Christmas. It’s a huge project, and by the time they’re called down for lunch, Dean and Jo are tired of papercuts and curling ribbon.

Lunch features Mary’s famous chili, and Dean eats two servings. During lunch, Dean notices the Asian girl chatting with Cas. That must be this season's exchange student. Mary Winchester teaches English as a second language at the local community college, and hosts a foreign student during the holidays. This year, it’s a girl from Japan named Akiko. Dean notices that Cas makes sure to reply to the girl’s questions in short, easy to understand sentences.

He does his best to ignore the tiny little spark of jealousy as all of Cas’ attention is absorbed in their conversation about cultural food differences. He also tries to ignore the looks his mom gives him, whenever she catches him looking over in Cas’ direction. Once the meal is over, Dean helps clear the table, and he gets to see the cookies from this morning’s baking. there are gingerbread men, sugar cookies shaped like trees and Santas, and some thumb-print cookies, and those little ball-shaped ones covered in powdered sugar.

As he crams one of the sugary treats in his mouth, Cas comes up and plucks something from his hair. It’s a piece of tape, with a bit of torn wrapping paper clinging to it.  Huh, Jo must have stuck it in there.  Dean gives Cas a crooked, cookie-crumb filled crooked smile as thanks, since his mouth is full.

Mary sends both of them crawling around in the attic for extra decorations for the Christmas party happening later in the evening. Dean heaves a sigh as he hands Cas a box of garland. There’s already the tree in the living room, and the fireplace has what looks like entire boughs of evergreen draping from it. What more does she want? He’s never been one for decorating his own place, and except for the dancing tree Sam sent, it looks just like any other time of year.

After they haul down the extra decorations, they begin draping garland and lights around doorways and windows, through light fixtures, and around the banister that leads upstairs. Cas reaches into one of the last boxes and pulls out a dried sprig of mistletoe with a red ribbon tied to the end. The sight of it causes Dean to blush, and he grabs the bit of greenery, cramming it back in the box.

“We’re done here. I’ll haul these back upstairs if you’ll go get mom?”

Cas looks up at him, a curious expression on his face, before he agrees and leaves the room. Oh, Jeez, he thinks,last thing I need is to have dude think I want him. _Although you kind of do,_ a little voice in the back of his mind blurts. Well, Cas doesn’t need to know that. He’s got enough going on figuring out his life without Dean complicating it. After his mom approves of the decorations, she sends Dean and Cas into the kitchen to begin prepping the party spread.

There’s already three crock pots going with meatballs, little wieners, and cheese for fondue. Cas starts cutting up veggies while Dean slices cheese and meat. Cas notices Dean eat the occasional “mistake”, and soon follows his example. They smile as they share lop-sided bites of what they prepare. By the time they finish, there’s a platter full of meats and cheeses, another of vegetables, and a tray piled with crackers and bread slices.

When they bring the trays out, extra tables have already been set up in the dining room, with festive tablecloths spread on them. Cas looks around wide-eyed for a moment, before Dean elbows him and nods in the direction of the kitchen. Once there, Dean hauls out a large pot and pulls out the ingredients for mulled cider.

Tossing a handful of spices into the pot, Dean asks, “So, your family’s super religious, right?”

Cas is examining the jars of spices, and says yes without even looking up.

“So, why do you act like you’ve never seen Christmas party decorations before?” Dean keeps his eye on the bottle of apple juice he’s pouring into the pot.

Cas sets down the jar of allspice he was smelling, and frowns. “We never had parties like this. There would be gatherings, but the large amounts of food and decorations would be seen as superfluous.”

“Oh, I see. That kind of religious.”

The frown on Cas’ face deepens, and his head tilts to one side, “What do you mean?”

Oh, Dean might want to be careful. Even though they kicked Cas out, they're still his family. “I mean, the kind that doesn't know how to have fun.”

He watches as Cas’ eyes narrow in thought. Cas replies, “While your assumption is partially erroneous, if I take into account your type of “fun”,” the guy actually uses air quotes, “then I suppose you have a point.”

As the day wears on, more people begin showing up. Ellen comes by with a spiral-sliced, glazed ham, and a couple six-packs of beer that have been decorated with pipe cleaners and googly eyes to look like reindeer. Someone turns on the stereo, and Christmas music filters throughout the house.

By six o'clock, the house is full of people eating and drinking, and Cas has retreated to the kitchen. Dean finds him there, stirring a fresh pot of cider. “Hey, you alright?”

Cas startles, and a small splash of cider dots the stove’s surface. “Oh, Dean.” He reaches for a kitchen towel, “Yes, I just…” He focuses his attention on the spilled cider.

Dammit, he shouldn’t have brought  Cas here. “Look, man. I’m sorry. Maybe you should have stayed at the apartment.”

Cas’ eyes flick up from the towel in his hands, “Oh, no, It’s been fine, really.”

Someone comes through the Kitchen door just then, bags full of beverages in his hands. It’s Ash, with his mullet and ripped sleeves. “Hey, Dean!” he calls, waving the bags at him, “Gimme a hand with this? Gotta get them in the fridge.”

Dean grabs  some of the bags, and helps cram sodas into the fridge wherever there’s free space. Cas acts busy, stirring the cider. Once everything’s put away, Ash slaps Dean on the back, and tells him to come mingle soon, that he’s got brandy for the eggnog. Dean gives him a smile, telling him he’ll be out in a moment.

At that, Ash turns toward cas, and says, “Hey, dunno how you got stuck with kitchen duty, but you should make some time to hang out too.” He sticks his hand out, “I’m Ash.”

Cas turns to him, and stares at the outstretched hand a moment before grasping it. “Um, Cas.”

“Cool,” Ash gives his hand a couple of shakes before letting go. “Well, I’m going to head back to the party, find out where they’re hanging the mistletoe, and try to get some lip-action.” With a wink, he’s out the door.

As soon as the door closes, Dean turns to Cas, “If you wanna go, we can—”

“No,” Cas says with conviction, “You deserve to spend time with your family. And you’ve already done so much for me. I really should learn to socialize more, now that… Now that I…”

Got disowned by his asshole family, Dean thinks. He grabs Cas by the forearm, “You know, if you wanna learn how to mingle, come hang with me.”

Cas looks at where Dean’s holding his arm, then up into his eyes. He gives a soft smile, “That sounds like a great idea.”

That warm smile causes the pit of Dean’s stomach to do little flips, and he smiles back before dragging Cas out to deal with the crowd. He shows him around, and introduces him to everyone as the “friend from out of town”. Cas awkwardly answers questions about family, and Dean helps lead the conversation, by telling people Cas’ family are all over and he couldn’t choose who to go visit. Cas seems uncomfortable with the lie, but gives Dean a thankful look for helping him out.

As the party progresses, they get handed spiked drinks, which Cas, surprisingly, drinks. Dean thinks he should warn him, but with every drink, Cas’ tense shoulders relax, and his smiles get bigger.

At one point, Jo hands Dean a microphone, and tells him to pick a Christmas song. He’s dragged to the TV, where they have a Christmas-themed Karaoke game playing on the Playstation. Mic in hand, Dean selects “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” and tries his damnedest to hit the scrolling guide bar. Halfway through the song, he looks up to see Cas staring at him, and Dean ends up basically singing the rest to Cas, not even looking at the screen. With the end of the song comes applause, and Jo pulls the mic from his hand, saying he does better when he’s not trying.

She hands the mic to Cas next and helps him choose a song. He looks nervously at Dean, but he waves an encouraging hand at him. Cas chooses “O Come Emmanuel”. Holy shit, Cas sings like an angel. As Cas sings, the room slowly quiets, until it’s only Cas’ resonant voice and the accompanying music from the sound system. When the song ends, everyone bursts into applause, multiple hands clapping Cas on the back and shoulders. Dean thinks his mom might cry, the way she goes up to Cas with a watery smile and gives him a tight hug.

He realizes he’s been standing there gawping when Jo nudges him with a knowing grin. Shit, he’s really got it bad for the homeless dude he dragged out of the snow just a little over a day ago.

Eventually the mic gets passed to a new person, and Cas tries to extricate himself from the crowd as Ash belts out “Grandma Got Runover By a Reindeer”. Dean leads him to an open space in front of the stairs that lead up to the second floor.

“Dude, where’d you learn to sing like that?” Dean enjoys watching Cas’ already flushed face deepen in color, the way it spreads to his ears.

“It’s not a big deal,” says Cas, staring at his feet. “We are… were, encouraged to sing during worship.”

Cas bites his lip, and Dean has to resist the urge to lean forward and press a kiss to the corner of that amazing mouth. Clearing his throat, Dean says, “I could use something to drink after that. How ‘bout you?”

Cas nods and asks, “Of course, what would you like?”

“Nope, dude you’ve done enough already. Stay right here and I’ll bring something back.”

He goes and gets a beer for himself, and a hard cider for Cas. Then, he runs around and piles a plate full of food for them to share. He returns with two bottles in one hand, and the plate balanced on the other, napkins and plastic forks sticking out of a breast pocket. They end up sitting on the bottom step, the plate between them as the pick what they like off of it.

A flash and click from a camera gets their attention, and they look up to see Ash standing in front of them with his cell phone. “I see you guys found the mistletoe.” He gestures above them with his chin, and sure enough there’s a twig with little oval leaves and white berries right above them, held in place by a loop of red ribbon.

Dean and Cas look at each other, before Cas glances away to stare at his own feet. The thought of getting to kiss Cas makes Dean’s heart thump, but he doesn’t want to pressure the guy into anything. Ash apparently didn’t get that memo though.

“Aww, c’mon, it’s just a little peck. Christmas tradition.”

As if to encourage Cas, Ash leans down and gives Dean a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Cas’ eyes seem to flash for a moment, his mouth turned down in a displeased frown. Dean pushes Ash away and wipes at the drool on his cheek with a sleeve. He turns his head to tell Cas he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want, but then he’s right there, lips pressed to Dean’s.

His whole head fills with static, and too soon Cas’ lips pull away. When he opens his eyes, Dean notices he’s leaning toward Cas and straightens up, clearing his throat. Jeez, it was over and done too fast, and Dean licks his lips, tasting the hard cider Cas had been sipping. All he wants to do is press back in for another kiss, to feel those chapped lips against his, because he’d been too in shock to actually catalogue how they felt against his. But that… that would be inappropriate, especially with the way Cas is standing up, brushing crumbs from his borrowed jeans and rushing off, face on fire.

An impressed whistle snaps Dean out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see Ash with a knowing grin. “You sure he’s ‘just a friend’, Dean? Because that right there? Was chemistry.”

Dean kicks Ash in the shin and tells him to shut up. He gathers the bottles and the plate, and heads to the kitchen to cool off, his own face flaming. Once he’s in the seclusion of the relatively quiet kitchen, he opens the freezer door and leans in, feeling the escaping air cool his face.

God, Cas kissed him. Did he want to? Was he pressured by Ash? Would he want to do it again? He closes the freezer door and presses his forehead to the cool metal. _I’m so screwed_ , he thinks.

Dean’s always been one for casual hookups over anything involving emotions. Regardless of if it’s a man or a woman, he avoids anything more than just a good time. Of course, this might have something to do with the fact he falls in love too easily and gets his heart ripped out by the object of his affections. So he keeps it light, tries to avoid getting involved. But from the moment his eyes met those bright, soulful blue ones, he’s been falling. So of course it has to be for someone who he really should keep at arm’s distance. Dude’s probably extremely inexperienced, he’s completely dependent on Dean right now, and would probably do whatever Dean asked in some twisted form of repaying him for kindness. With a little bang of his forehead to the freezer door, Dean pushes off and turns, to see Cas standing at the kitchen door.

His cheeks are still pink, and he glances away quickly. “I umm… Sorry about that,” Cas says, his voice a little rough.

“Nah, I understand,” responds Dean, “Ash can be a little pushy sometimes.”

They stand there, at opposite ends of the kitchen, looking anywhere but at each other. The silence is growing awkward, and Dean clears his throat. He opens his mouth, and says, “D’you wanna get out of here?” the same time as Cas says, “Would you mind if we left?”

They glance at each other, and burst into laughter. Dean’s the first to speak again, “You ready to go?”

“Yes, I’m not accustomed to consuming alcohol. The effect is… disconcerting.”

So, Cas is gonna blame it on the alcohol. That’s one way to deal with the awkward aftermath.

“Lemme go get our coats,” offers Dean, before slipping past Cas to get to tell everyone goodbye and head for the coat closet. He’d loaned Cas one of his older coats, a sturdy corduroy with a sheepskin collar. After a round of goodbyes, hugs and kisses on the cheek, he finally makes his way back to the kitchen to see Cas leaning against the counter, a half-full glass of water in his hand.

“That’s a good idea,” he says while handing over Cas’ coat. “When we get back, eat a slice of bread or two. It’ll help soak up some of the alcohol.”

Cas nods, and takes a couple long swallows before placing the glass in the sink and taking the coat from Dean. Dean can’t help but watch as Cas tilts his head back, the elongated line of his throat,  how his adam’s apple bobs with each swallow. And then their fingers brush when he hands the coat over. They look away, pulling their coats on.

Before they can make it out the door, Dean’s mom stops them with a couple large tupperware containers full of food. “I’m not sure if you’ll be coming over for Christmas dinner tomorrow since you’re entertaining a guest,” she glances at Cas, “But you’re both free to stop by at Ellen’s tomorrow. We’re planning to eat by four, which means…” she rolls her eyes, “we probably won’t eat till after five.”

They take turns during the holidays, cooking the large meals at different houses. And dinner was never ready when planned, ever. Something always came up. Dean smiles down at her, “I’ll let you know, okay?”

Mary reaches up and places a hand on Dean’s cheek, “Be safe on the way home. I know you’re always careful, but you’ve been drinking…”

“Yeah Mom, I know. Delayed reflexes. I’ll be extra careful since I have a passenger.”

He pulls her in for a hug, and then Mary turns to Cas. She pulls one of his hands into hers, “And you’ll keep an eye on my son, won’t you?”

“Of course, Mrs. Winchester,” he says with a serious tone. “I’ll make sure no harm comes to him.”

She pulls him into a hug, and Cas looks at Dean in surprise. He just grins back at him. Mary whispers something into Cas’ ear, which makes him blush again.

“See you later boys,” she calls as they step onto the porch, “and drive safe!”

She watches from the door as they get into Dean’s car, and pull away. Once they’re on a main street, Dean turns to Cas. “So what did she say to you back there?”

Cas ducks his head, “She… She um…”

Dean chuckles, “Lemme guess, she thought you’re dating me, right?”

He’s watching the road, but can tell that Cas ducks his head, “Something like that.”

They’re quiet for most of the rest of the trip, and when Dean pulls into his parking spot at his apartment, he breathes out a sigh of relief. When they enter the apartment, Cas says, “I liked your family.”

Dean turns to him, his coat half off, “Yeah, Cas?’

“Yes.” Cas toes his shoes off at the door, “They’re very… accepting.”

Dean can’t help but grin widely at that remark, “Yeah, I guess I lucked out.” He hangs up his coat, “But you know what? The truth is, most of them aren’t blood related. But we’re close, probably closer than most families that are.”

Cas has a sad smile on his face, as he hangs up his own coat. It makes Dean ache to wrap him up in his arms, and tell him everything’s going to be okay. He blurts out, “So Cas, would you be interested in Christmas dinner with them tomorrow?” He has to force himself to not hold his breath.

A crease forms between Cas’ brows, as he thinks it over. “Will there be as many people as at the party?”

“No, not that many. It’s gonna be my mom, and Ellen, Jo, Ash, Bobby, and maybe a couple of others, if they can get free. I think Garth’s family’s coming to town, so he’s occupied. Jody might stop by, but I think she’s on-call tomorrow.” He runs through the list of extended family in his head, trying to think if anyone else will be showing up. “Yeah, I think that’s about it. Sam’s with his girlfriend this year.”

“Then I would be honored to join your family tomorrow.”

Dean’s sure Cas didn’t mean to word it that way, but the thought of Cas being family… It causes a tingly warmth to spread through him. They stand there, just… kind of looking at each other for a while. And surprisingly, it’s not as weird as Dean would suspect. Except for the urge to pull Cas closer. If Dean doesn’t back away soon, he just might give into that impulse. Which he really shouldn’t do, even though the reasons for why seem to be eluding him at the moment.

Cas is the first to look away, and he mumbles something about needing the restroom. Once the bathroom door closes behind him, Dean lets out a slow breath. Dammit, it’s happening again. He’s getting attached to someone, and he should know better, but he can’t help it. Cas is gonna get himself together, and leave. Dean’s just a pit stop in his life.

When Cas emerges from the bathroom, Dean’s in the kitchen with a glass of water and a small sandwich made from a dinner roll and some meat and cheese his mom packed in the tupperware. He waves at the container and reminds him to eat something. While Cas assembles his own small sandwich, he says casually, “I was thinking, I’m not quite tired yet, and it’s early.”

Dean chews thoughtfully on a bite of his roll, and says, “Uh-huh?”

Cas looks down at the assembly of meat and cheese, “Last night, watching television. Can we do that again?” His voice is soft, almost like he’s afraid to address his wishes out loud.

“Sure, Cas.”

They make a couple more little roll-sandwiches, and settle in on the couch. _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ is just starting, and the look of delight on Cas’ face as he watches it is totally worth sitting through it. After that is Frosty the Snowman, and then the Jim Carey Grinch movie. He refuses to show Cas that one without seeing the original animated Grinch first. He’s flipping through channels, and Cas asks him to stop at a black and white movie. It’s _Miracle on 34th Street_ , and Cas seems captivated. Dean ends up nodding off during the movie, thinking he’ll just rest his eyes.

At some point, Dean is half awake, leaning against someone, an arm wrapped around him. It’s comfortable, and he doesn’t want to move. Fingers run through his hair, and he nuzzles into a firm chest. It’s nice, the way their warm scent mingles with the familiar scent of his own detergent. A warm, kind voice croons at him, “Go back to sleep, Dean, I’ve got you.” And so he does.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is your promised porn.  
> Have some more fluff, wrapped up in a porn sandwich.  
> Runs through Christmas Day.

Dean slowly wakes in the early morning, his mouth fuzzy, snuggled up on that same chest. His arm is wrapped around a narrow hip, knee between someone’s legs. Automatically, he grinds his morning wood against a thigh. There’s a hand resting on his shoulder, The chest his head is resting on steadily rising and falling. He tilts his head up and sees dark stubble and a cleft chin. He smiles, remembering falling asleep next to Cas. And then the rest of his brain comes online.

This is not a good idea. Cas should have pushed him off the couch, made him go to bed. Instead, here he is, wrapped up under his mom’s old afghan, tangled up in a man he has no right to be. Dean rolls off of Cas’ chest, and props up on an elbow. He can’t help but look over the sleeping man, and he wonders how he’s not falling off the couch. They’re both still in jeans, but Cas took off his overshirt, and the t-shirt he’s wearing has ridden up, exposing his lower belly. Dean’s eyes roam over the skin showing, the jut of the top of his hip poking from under his jeans, the contours of his abdomen, the trail of dark hair that disappears under his waistband… He has to force his eyes up to not look any lower.

Looking up, he can make out the shape of Cas’ chest, and he’s more defined, maybe a bit more muscular there than Dean. His eyes trace up to his exposed neck, the dip at the base of the throat, the way Cas’ features are relaxed in a way Dean hadn’t seen the night he’d hauled Cas from the snowdrift. In the early morning light, Cas looks almost ethereal, and Dean remembers the edge of a dream, involving huge wings wrapping around him.

A soft sigh escapes from Cas’ lips, and his head turns toward Dean. This is bad. All Dean can think about is caressing the lines and contours of Cas’ form, and about how much he wants to press his lips to Cas’ throat, his mouth. His hard-on twitches at the thought, and Dean really needs to get off of this couch.

He extricates the leg between Cas’, and stretches it out. Carefully, he pulls back, and he gets ready to climb over Cas without trying to wake him. Unfortunately, his movement causes Cas to stir, and he ends up practically straddling the man, with fingers twined into his hair, pressing his head to Cas’ chest. And just because Dean needs to be tortured even more, a cheek nuzzles the top of his head, and Cas’ hips angle up to unconsciously rut against him. And Oh, Dear, God. He’s hard, his length pressing up against his lower belly, making Dean’s erection throb even harder.

There’s a pleased moan, and Cas shifts again, his other hand sliding down Dean’s back, pressing down when he gets to the dip of his waist. Oh Jesus, oh fucking Christ on a cracker. Dean turns his face into Cas’ chest to muffle the whimper that escapes him. If he stays like this much longer, he’s going to take advantage of a sleeping man. Taking a deep breath, he rolls off of Cas, off the couch, and drops with a thud onto the floor.

Cas jerks awake, fingers briefly clawing for either a warm body, or a blanket that is no longer there. Dean hears the sharp intake of breath, and he holds still while Cas gets his bearings. After a second, Cas turns onto his side, and sees Dean tangled up in the afghan on the floor.

“Dean?”

With a resigned sigh, Dean sits up, and untangles his legs. “Morning, Cas.”

“Why are you in the floor?”

“Because I fell off the couch?”

It takes Cas a while to process that thought, to realize he’s still warm from being pressed against another body, to register the erection in his pants.  His eyes widen, and his mouth forms a little surprised o. And then he turns bright red.

“Um, I, uh…”

“It's okay, Cas. I should’ve gone to bed, and instead fell asleep out here. When I tried to get up without waking you, I ended up down here.”

Now that Cas is sitting up, Dean can see his hair sticking up in all directions, and he wants to run his fingers through it. He also wants to kiss that pouty mouth, rut back against Cas’ crotch. He wants to pull off that damn t-shirt, and explore Cas’ torso with his hands and mouth. He wants… he wants…

He snaps out of that train of thought, to see Cas staring at his mouth, his tongue flicking out to moisten those chapped lips. It would take nothing to lean forward, to pull Cas down so he can taste that mouth. Dammit. He’s gotta stop thinking of Cas that way. Groaning, Dean crawls around the side of the couch so that Cas won’t see his boner when he stands up.

“Gotta… bathroom. Be right back.”

Dashing to the bathroom, Dean flips the switch for both the light and the vent fan, and locks the door. His cock is demanding attention, pressing painfully against the zipper of his jeans. Undoing the button and zipper, he sighs in relief as his  cock strains forward, still trapped by his underwear. Pushing everything down to the tops of his thighs, Dean takes his aching cock into hand and strokes it.

Oh, fuck. He doesn’t have time to draw this out, so he reaches over , gets a squirt of hand lotion from the pump next to the sink, and gets to town doing everything he knows to get off as fast as possible. He tightens his fist around the shaft, stroking up to the head, flicking his thumb against the slit. When a groan tries to escape, he bites the knuckles of his other hand, balled up into a fist. Cas can’t know what he’s doing in here.

He’s jerking quick and rough, and hopes the wet sounds of his lotioned fist don’t carry over the noise of the vent fan. Cock in hand, Dean thinks of just a short while ago, the way Cas looked beneath him. He thinks of the way he looked last night, right before Cas kissed him under the mistletoe.

While trying to imagine what it would feel like to rut up against Cas completely naked, Dean can feel his orgasm approaching. He’s panting against his fist, the other hand quickly sliding up and down his cock, and he imagines that his hand is wrapped around Cas’ erection, Cas moaning beneath him in pleasure. That does it, and Dean shoots his load into his palm, choking back an exclamation. He rests his head against the wall, breathing heavily, hand cupping his still-twitching cock as it softens.

After washing up a bit, Dean comes out of the bathroom a little more composed. Cas is still sitting on the couch, his head thrown back against the cushions. All Dean can see of Cas is the back of his head from here. He’s breathing kinda funny, but when Dean clears his throat, he gets an idea as to why. Cas yanks himself straight up, hands scrambling for the afghan. Well well. Was Cas doing a bit of self exploration? The thought causes a weak twitch in Dean’s pants, and he’s very glad he already took care of himself. Cas turns to him, blushing furiously. Dean figures he’ll play dumb, but he can’t keep a cocky little half-smile from forming.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’m gonna crash out a little more. You need anything?”

Cas squeezes his eyes shut briefly, and he stutters when he speaks, “N-no, I think… yes, I’ll be fine. You go… rest.”

As Dean turns to head to his room, Cas says, “Actually, would you mind if… if I took a shower?”

Dean wipes the grin off of his face before turning around, “Sure Cas, go right ahead. I guess you’ll need to borrow something to change into?”

Cas lowers his eyes, “If it’s not an inconvenience.”

“Be right back.” Dean digs through his drawers for a soft pair of sweatpants and digs up an old Led Zeppelin shirt. He bundles them up and brings them over to the couch, where Cas has the afghan piled up in his lap.

“You know where the towels are, and use whatever you need in the bathroom.” Cas nods without looking up at him. Poor guy, Dean should stop teasing him, leave him to do his business.

“Well, I’ll see you in a couple hours then.”

“Thank you, Dean. Sleep well.”

Dean is halfway back to his room when he remembers what day it is. “Merry Christmas, Cas.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Cas whispers.

Once in his room, Dean lets out a shaky breath. Cas is about to go take a shower, and if he’s not mistaken, he’s gonna masturbate in there. Jesus, Cas is going to be the death of him. He throws himself on the bed and lays with an arm over his eyes. It’s difficult to try to sleep when a wet, naked Cas stroking himself just a few feet away fills his thoughts.

The shower comes on, he can hear the water rushing through the pipes. And his dick’s getting stiff again, with a mind of its own. Dean undoes his jeans and pushes them off, and pulls his shirt over his head. He lays on top of his bed, naked, and palms his cock.

He imagines Cas pulling his shirt off, watches the muscles bunch and flex. Then Cas undoes his pants, and slides them down those muscular thighs, with his boxers next. He imagines Cas examining himself in the mirror, cock half-hard, as he rubs his hand over his own torso. Dean lets out a shuddering moan at the thought, and holds his breath, listening for the continued sound of the pipes.

Hoping that Cas takes his time, he sweeps his thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the precome already leaking from the tip. Biting his lip, he pictures Cas testing the water and then climbing over the edge of the tub to get under the shower spray, pulling the curtain closed.

In Dean’s mind, Cas leans back to get his hair wet, hands pushing hair away from his face. Then he reaches for the shampoo, squirting some in his hand, massaging a lather into his scalp. Fat dollops of foamy soap roll down Cas’ shoulders and chest, and Cas spreads it around with his hands, across his chest, down his abdomen, and down to his crotch, where his cock is hanging heavy.

Dean groans at the imaginary sight, wishing he knew how it really looked. In his mind it’s thick and full, a slightly darker shade than the rest of his golden skin, and nimble fingers encircle it, stroking it with soapy fingers. His other hand reaches down to massage his balls, and he tilts his head back, exposing his throat.

Oh, yeah. Dean touches himself the way he imagines Cas is touching himself in the shower. He rolls his balls in one hand, the other stroking his cock to a full erection. He wonders if Cas ever fingers himself while masturbating, stroking that bundle of nerves until he’s a quivering mess. Letting go of his balls, Dean reaches into his nightstand for the lube, and slicks up his fingers. Still stroking his cock, he reaches around, and strokes a finger against his own asshole. He pushes inside, and fucks himself open, two fingers scissoring and stretching.

After a while, Dean shifts position, the image of Cas still in his mind, the hot shower spray beating down on him while he plunges his fingers into his ass, his other hand working his cock. Curling forward, Dean sinks his fingers deeper, and brushes the pads of his fingers against his prostate, and it tears a moan from his lips. He pauses, listening for the sound of water, but all he can hear is the rushing of blood in his ears.

He takes a couple of deep breaths, and grabs his shirt, biting down on it. Then he’s right back where he was, fingers deep inside, stroking that sensitive bundle, feeling the sensations zing straight through to his cock, and electric tingles all over. Hand stroking his cock faster, fingers pumping in his ass, Dean imagines Cas’ legs getting weak from the pleasure, skin flushed from the activity and the heat of the shower. He’s so close now, and he can smell his shampoo, lingering from his own shower, and overlays it in his mind with the scent of Cas from this morning.

Panting and whimpering, Dean yanks his shirt to his hips, and turns his face into the pillow. with a couple more pulls on his cock, and another firm press on his prostate, he’s coming, hips jerking forward, and he pictures Cas, muscles tight, cock hard, flushed and throbbing, as he shoots hot spurts of come onto the tile wall of the shower. Imagines his face, contorted in ecstasy. He pictures Cas milking the last of the come out of his cock, pearly white dribbling from the tip.

Dean lets the image of a flushed, sated Cas slip from his mind as he deals with his own mess. Everything got caught by the shirt, and Dean wads it up, wiping off his fingers and ass cheeks free of lube, before tossing it aside. Limbs loose and mind buzzing, Dean reaches down for his boxer-briefs and pulls them up, before managing to get under the covers. He drifts asleep with the sound of the shower still running.

*****

When Dean wakes again a couple of hours later, he can hear music. Christmas music, in his own apartment. Groaning, he climbs out of bed and pulls on a pair of sweats and a shirt to go investigate.

Cas has been cooking again. He managed to find the waffle iron Dean had received when he’d first moved in, and there’s a stack of waffles on a plate next to where Cas is shaking his hips to “Holly Jolly Christmas” which is playing from the clock radio on his windowsill. When’s the last time Dean had waffles? It’s definitely been a while. Not wanting to startle Cas, Dean leans against the doorframe and watches him move.

As the song ends and another starts, Cas pulls out a golden waffle from the pan and pours in more batter. Once he’s got the lid locked down, Cas tilts his head, trying to figure out “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch”. More than likely, he doesn’t get why someone’s singing about a bad guy at Christmas. Dean sings along, starting with, “You’re a bad banana with a greasy black peel,” keeping his tone dep to match the musician.

Cas startles, and turns to see Dean who can’t help but slink forward, acting sinister as he picks up the next line, “You’re a monster, Mister Grinch…” He sings all through pulling plates from the cabinet and setting the table, overdoing the lyrics, and making Cas laugh with his antics. At the end of the song, Cas shakes his head at Dean and preps another waffle.

“How is that a Christmas song?”

“Dude, we’ve gotta find the original Grinch for you to watch today. It’ll all make sense then, I swear.”

Dean pours both of them mugs of coffee, and Cas pulls a Pyrex measuring cup from the microwave with… hot jam? Cas admits he has only had waffles a couple of times, and since the store on the corner is closed, he couldn’t get fresh fruit. He saw the jar of jam next to the jelly, and thought it would do instead. Dean grins, and places it on the table along with a half-empty bottle of pancake syrup that had been hiding in the back of the fridge.

After he shows Cas how he likes to butter and syrup his waffle, Cas drizzles a small amount of the hot jam on his waffle and glares at Dean’s diabetes and heart attack special. Dean rolls his eyes and declares, “It’s Christmas, calories don’t count on Christmas.”

Cas raises an eyebrow, dubious to Dean’s logic. Then, without another comment, he reaches over and turns on the damn singing tree.  As it blares out its tinny version of “Jingle Bell Rock”, Dean groans and tries to find the off switch while the damn thing wiggles in his hands. Cas gives him a wicked grin.

Once breakfast is finished and the dishes are in the washer, Dean drags Cas to the TV and gets on Netflix to find _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_. Cas watches the thing like he’s going to have a quiz on it later. When it gets to the part where the Whos in Whoville all come out and sing, even though they’ve been robbed blind, Dean glances at Cas, and he swears, he sees moisture in his eyes. Is the dude getting ready to cry over a children’s story? When it’s over, Cas turns to him with a furrowed brow.

“Well, Cas? Whatcha think?”

“The story is an interesting study of contrasts. While the Grinch is meant to be seen as the villain from the beginning, I want to know why he ended up living separate from the rest of society. What made him envious and resentful of the Who’s lifestyle?”

Dean blinks at him, “Dude, I don’t think you’re supposed to analyze it that deeply.”

“But Dean, with the beautiful symbolism of the Star of Bethlehem, and how Christmas is more than the consumption of things, and even how in spite of losing everything, they could still give thanks and sing joyfully. It’s the synthesis of the true meaning of Christmas.” Cas pauses, pursing his lips. “However, I find it odd that after gleaning that meaning, they all return to their former consumerism.”

Dean facepalms. “I don’t think that’s the point of the movie, Cas.”

After a few more minutes of what feels like the most surreal conversation he’s ever had. Dean starts _Die Hard_. Just a good old action movie, that happens to be around Christmas. He’s seen it enough times he can quote his favorite parts, so he watches Cas. He notices how close they’re sitting, their knees almost touching from where they’d turned to each other during conversation.

It’s odd, how quickly Cas slotted right into Dean’s life. He’s this weird, dorky guy who has somehow managed to grow up without TV. They really should have nothing in common, but Dean finds himself drawn to him anyway.  And it’s not just because he’s hot. Because while Cas is kinda hot, it’s in a weird way. If he were anyone else, Dean doesn’t think he’d be as attractive. It’s like all the little quirks, and the heart behind it all, just… kind of illuminate him. Okay, Dean needs to think of something else, he’s getting all sappy.

Normally, Dean sprawls across the couch, arms along the back, legs splayed; but with Cas, he doesn’t want to give him the wrong idea, so he keeps his hands in his lap, and legs on his side.

After _Die Hard_ ends,  they realize it’s time to start getting ready for Christmas dinner. Dean heads for a shower, and afterwards helps pick out something for Cas to wear. There’s an old blue sweater in the back that Dean never really liked on himself, but the color really compliments Cas’ eyes. Dean ends up in green flannel, and before long they’re out the door.

They get to Ellen’s by four forty-five, and as expected, dinner’s running late. Dean is immediately drafted for kitchen duty, and Cas gets dragged off for something else. Ellen is in the kitchen, halfway through a bottle of wine, arguing with Bobby about how to cut the carrots.

“They need to be cut into rounds.”

“No, they should be cut into sticks.”

Dean takes over and cuts them at an angle, appeasing the both of them. Between Ellen’s half bottle of wine, and Bobby’s multiple beers, they’re both tipsy, and that makes them argumentative. After the carrot incident, comes the turkey debate, while Dean starts on the cranberry sauce.

“You need to take it out, or it’s gonna be dry.”

“It’s wrapped in foil. If I take it out now, it’ll be cold before we eat it.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“You’re the one that said we were gonna eat at four!”

“When have we ever gotten a holiday dinner on the table on time?”

They go back and forth at each other like that until Dean chases them out. He doesn’t let them back in the kitchen until it’s time to bring out all the food, which doesn’t happen until about five thirty. The table looks awesome, decorated with sprigs of holly intertwined with fir and wrapped in ribbons, and there are candles everywhere. Dean avoids more than a couple glasses of anything alcoholic himself, because he knows that driving home will be difficult enough after eating, without adding alcohol to that. Normally, he’d drink what he wanted and stay over, but Cas… Cas might not feel comfortable with that.

During dinner, Dean and Cas are placed across from each other, and every time he looks up, he catches Cas looking away. But then again, whenever Cas glances at him, he looks away too. As the rest of the table becomes more inebriated, they start teasing Dean and Cas. Both are blushing messes by the end of the meal, and even though Cas offers to help clean up while the rest of them go recover from overindulgence, they don’t really speak much while packing away leftovers, and washing dishes.

While Dean’s cutting pies for the next round, he finally manages to say more than a couple words to Cas. “So… what did they have you doing while I was saving dinner?”

“After helping set the table, your mother insisted I watch television with her.”

“Oh, really? What did you watch?”

Cas blushes and looks away, “The Hallmark Channel.”

Groaning, Dean rolls his eyes. “Made you watch some sappy holiday love story, didn’t she?”

Cas rubs the back of his neck, “The end of one, and the beginning of another.”

“Oh, man. I’m sorry. She gets that way around the holidays.”

Once the pies are ready, they bring them out to the living room where everyone is piled up on couches, recliners, armchairs, and even a couple borrowed chairs from the dining room. Both Dean and Cas end up in the floor, their plates on the coffee table. Dean had saved room for this, and ends up having a slice each of pumpkin, apple, and cherry. With ice cream and whipped cream.

Conversation dies down as they all become uncomfortably full, although there is a brief flurry of activity as Jody stops in, taking a break from her duty as Sheriff. He’d already prepared dinner to-go for her, including pie, and she gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks kiddo.” She sweeps back out after a round of greetings and hugs.

Later on, they hand out gifts. Dean’s lazy and not very creative, so he just gets everyone gift cards for their favorite places. Jo gets a gift card for the university bookstore, since she’s going there. Bobby receives a beer-of-the month club membership, and Ellen has a gift card for the local wine store. For Ash, he got a digital coupon for an online geek store, and he rushes off immediately to figure out what he wants to buy. He got the exchange student a gift card for the local mall, good to use in any of the stores there.

His mom, she gets something different. She has a favorite locket that she’s had forever, and the hinge broke. He took it to have it repaired, and even got most of the nicks and scratches polished out of it, as well as a new chain. She gives him a strangling hug, thanking him with tears in her eyes.

Dean gets the usual assortment of tools, gift cards, and clothes. One of the cards is for the local auto parts store, and he’s already imagining what he’s gonna get for his baby.

Just as Dean realizes the only one not getting gifts is Cas, a few bright bags overflowing with tissue paper get handed to him. One bag has a pair of sturdy, warm gloves, another has a fluffy scarf. He ends up with socks and a knit cap as well. The guy honestly looks like he’s going to cry.

“But I didn’t get any of you a gift,” he whispers, fingers knotting in the fringe of his new scarf.

Jo speaks up then, “Well that just means next year you’ll have to get us even better presents.”

The thought of Cas being around next year causes Dean’s heart to do some little flippy-floppy kind of dance, but then he sees the sad look on Cas’ face. Oh, yeah. Cas is only supposed to be hanging around temporarily, until he can get back on his feet. Who knows where he’ll be next Christmas? Before people start asking questions, Dean nudges Cas and says they should go for a walk to settle their stomachs and test out his new winter gear. Dude looks a little confused, but follows.

A couple minutes later, they’re outside, trudging along the snowy sidewalk. Dean looks over at Cas, his face tucked down so his new scarf covers his nose, his cap pulled down around his ears.

“Hey, about what they said in there…”

“It’s alright, Dean. I know they don’t understand my true situation.” His eyes close for a moment, and then he turns to look at Dean. “It was very thoughtful of them, to get me something on short notice.”

Dean smiles, and leans towards him, “You wanna know a secret? Mom always has extra stuff like that just sitting around. It’s a leftover habit from when Sam and I lived at home. We were always losing a glove, or a hat, so she always made sure we had extras. So don’t get too emotional over it.”

“It’s that they thought to include me, not the actual gifts, Dean.”

Dean’s sure that if he could see the lower half of Cas’ face, he’d have a little pouty frown. “Yeah, well that just means they like you.”

Cas grows quiet after that, and after one trip around the block, Dean’s complaining about the cold, so they head back inside. After shucking their jackets and kicking off their boots, Dean and Cas stand in the entryway, debating if they should go hole up in the kitchen and be resigned to dish duty, or if they should go socialize in the living room some more.

Dean runs fingers through his hair and tilts his head back, to see another sprig of mistletoe, right above them. When did that get there? He could swear it wasn’t there earlier. He glances at Cas, to find him looking up as well. Then he looks straight into Dean’s eyes, and then down at his lips. Might… does Cas want to do this? Dean watches, transfixed, as Cas pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, then drags his teeth across the moistened surface. Well, Cas initiated last time, so maybe…

With their shoes off, they’re almost the same height, Cas just an inch or two shorter. Dean reaches up, raising Cas’ chin, and gently presses, his lips brushing across Cas’. He makes sure to catalogue every sensation this time, the way his lips are still a little cold from being outside, how chapped they are, the warmth of Cas’ breath as he sighs through his nose.

Dean’s skin tingles from the contact, and he marvels at his reaction to such a simple kiss, but never wants it to end. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, and there’s a click and flash. Turning his head, Dean sees Ash with his camera again, with a wide grin splitting his face.

“Now I have a set! The before and after mistletoe collection!”

“Ash, I swear I’m gonna—” Before Dean can say any more Ash dashes off around a corner, cackling.

When Dean turns to Cas to apologize, he sees the man with a dazed expression. His eyes are half-open, cheeks rosy, and his mouth is slightly pursed, almost like he expects Dean to pick up where he left off.  And he’s tempted to, but he told Cas he wouldn’t do anything inappropriate, and anything more than just a little mistletoe kiss would be very inappropriate. He clears his throat and backs away, watching as Cas realizes the situation.

Cas clears his throat and suggests he helps with the dishes, and Dean tells him to go collect dessert plates, and he’ll get things started. A kind of shy quiet descends upon them while washing dishes, like there’s a tension in the air that neither of them know how to break. Once the kitchen is relatively in order, Dean glances at Cas, and at the counter, trying to figure out what to say that won’t sound stupid.

Finally, he says softly, like if he’s too loud he might spook the guy, “So, um, unless you wanna hang out, watch some more Hallmark Channel or whatever, maybe… maybe we could go home?”

He swears he hears Cas’ breath catch for a second, and then, “Perhaps that’s a good idea.”

Dean finally looks up, and Cas has this look, like he’s part confused, another worried, and hopeful? He tries to not read too much into it, so jerks his head in the direction of the living room and suggests they make their goodbyes.

Just like last night, Dean goes through a round of goodbyes, hugs and kisses. But this time, Cas is pulled into it as well, and he gets his own share of kissed cheeks and tight hugs. Ellen insists on them taking leftovers home, but Dean’s already prepared, with containers stacked in a grocery bag. They get bundled up again, and Dean is soon navigating the slick roads back home.

Home. It’s something he hasn’t really thought about in a while. Home used to be the house where he grew up, and after he moved out, it still felt like home, because that’s where his family lived. His own apartment was more like just his place, where he slept and lived, but Dean never really invested much into it, except basic furnishings. But with Cas by his side, he keeps thinking of it being _home_. But this situation is temporary, he tells himself, Cas will move on, and then it will just be Dean again. He’s only known the dude for a couple of days, and yet the thought of Cas leaving makes a lump form in his stomach.

Once they arrive, Dean shuts off the engine, and he sits there, hand on the keys, cocooned in this safe space, Cas shifting next to him.

“Dean.”

His name is called, softly, almost timid, as if Cas is afraid of breaking the silence between them.

“Yeah, Cas?” he whispers back. He looks over, and Cas has his gloves in his hands, wringing them.

“I, umm…” Cas takes a deep breath, “This will sound incredibly selfish, but… umm…”

“What is it, Cas?” What could Cas possibly ask for that Dean wouldn’t gladly give him?

“Well, we were discussing Christmas presents earlier, and… And I never received one from you.”

Dean chuckles softly, “Dude, if it’s bothering you, I can give you that coat you’ve been wearing.”

“Um, that’s not… Thank you Dean, but…” He squirms in his seat, and Dean’s getting worried.

What does Cas want to say that’s making him this uncomfortable? “Hey,” Dean turns in his seat to look straight at Cas, "Whatever’s on your mind, just come right on out and say it.”

Cas looks at him, wide-eyed, and swallows nervously. “I want to give you something, too.”

With a soft smile, Dean says, “I told you, that ain’t necessary, but what did you have in mind?”

“Well… you see…” Cas trails off, his mouth forming that little frown again. Finally, he looks up and says, “I want to kiss you.”

It’s Dean’s turn to hold his breath. Did he just hear that correctly? Cas wants to… “Are you sure, Cas? Because I told you…”

“Yes, I, I was…” the next part comes out in a whisper, “It was what I was going to ask for.”

Dean’s head is buzzing, and he’s struck dumbfounded. Cas… Cas wants a kiss? _Don’t read too much into this_ , he thinks.

His voice comes out rough, “Um, sure Cas. I think that would be a nice present.”

Dean looks up into Cas’ eyes, and they’re dark in the orange light. Cas’ mouth is parted slightly, and his eyes wander over Dean’s face, his own expression one of wonder. Dean wonders what expression Cas sees. Cas reaches up a tentative hand, and his fingertips brush Dean’s cheek, and Dean closes his eyes, sighing at the touch. He hears the creak of the leather seat, as Cas scoots closer, and the brush of a knee against his own.

Cas leans in, his breath warm on his face, and Dean holds still, letting him go at his own pace. He wonders if Cas can hear the thumping of his heart, loud in his own ears. A dry, feather soft, light touch at the corner of his mouth is Cas’ first kiss. Dean can't help the small smile that tries to twitch into place, and soon Cas grows bolder, pressing his lips fully against Dean’s, firmly. When Cas starts to pull away, Dean chases, pressing their lips together again, mouthing, pulling at Cas’ bottom lip.

That causes a gasp, Cas’ lips parting slightly, and Dean gives a tiny flick with his tongue, brushing lightly against the opening. And Cas _whimpers_. Damn, that just makes Dean want more, and he reaches blindly, grasps Cas’ new scarf, and pulls him in closer, prying Cas’ lips open wider with his own, flicking against the soft insides again with his tongue. There’s a sigh, and Cas clings to the front of Dean’s coat, letting him take over the kiss.

He shows Cas what to do, tilts his head just so, and moves their mouths together, kissing, pulling back and coming in again for more, his tongue only lightly flicking against Cas’ lips, occasionally brushing up against the tip of another tongue as Cas grows more bold. Before long, Cas is panting, still gripping Dean’s coat tightly. If they’re going to continue this, they should go inside.

Dean places a palm on Cas’ cheek, and pulls back. Oh, what a sight. Cas’ lips are pink, most and parted, allowing panted breaths to escape. His eyes are closed, and Dean waits for him to open them. When he does, it’s a kind of half-mast, but he’s paying attention now.

“If we wanna continue this, we should go inside.”

“Yes, please.”

With a chuckle. Dean pulls back further. “That means you’re gonna have to let go, Cas.”

That causes his eyes to open fully, and Cas lets go of Dean. “Um, yes. Well.”

Dean grins, “C’mon, let’s go inside, it’s cold out here.”

With a nod, Cas fumbles with the door handle, and follows Dean up the stairs, trails in behind him through the door. Dean turns to him, leftovers in hand. “Get comfortable. I’ll put this away and be right back." He figures it will be a way to give Cas time to decide if he wants anything more.

Once in the kitchen, Dean tries to remember how much Cas had to drink. Is he too inebriated to make this choice on his own? While Cas avoided alcohol at dinner, he could have had some wine maybe with his mom. He supposes the best thing to do is to ask outright if this is what Cas wants.

With the food put away, Dean takes off his shoes and coat, and heads back into the living room. Cas is on the couch, hands clasped between his knees. He doesn’t look up as Dean sits down next to him.

“Hey, Cas?”

He has that same nervous expression he did in the car, and this time Dean can see the blue in his eyes, and the wide pupils.

“Just wondering, would you like to continue where we left off?”

Cas nods, and Dean sees him swallow nervously.

“We can stop if you want…”

“N-no,” A hand reaches out, and Cas’ fingers brush against Dean’s arm. “I’m just… I’ve never…”

Smiling softly, Dean says, “We’ll go at whatever pace you set, alright?”

Cas’ fingers graze down Dean’s arm, to the back of his hand, and turns it over to trace the calluses there. “Okay.”

His other hand reaches up, traces Dean’s jaw, brushes lightly against his lips. Dean catches that hand, presses kisses into the palm. Soon, Cas presses their lips together again, experimentally tracing the edges of Dean’s mouth with his tongue. Dean growls softly, captures that tongue with his lips, and suckles on it. This elicits a shuddering moan, and Dean opens up, tracing Cas’ tongue with his own, turning his head to deepen the kiss.

Cas doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, one’s grasping Dean’s tightly, the other is clinging to his knee. Dean brings those hands up, places them on his shoulders, and slides his own around Cas’ waist, stroking his back through the sweater. Slowly, Cas’ hands relax, one going into Dean’s hair, the other against his chest. Dean slips his hands under Cas’ sweater, stroking lightly across his hips.

Too soon, Cas pulls away, panting heavily, eyes barely open.

“You alright?” asks Dean.

“Don’t wanna stop,” slurs Cas, “but, hafta… catch my breath.”

Dean pulls him closer, “I’ve got you,” he whispers into his ear, before lightly nibbling on a lobe.

“Haah,” Cas breathes out, body stiffening under Dean’s hands.

“Too much?” Dean whispers.

“Again,” breathes Cas.

Dean pulls his earlobe back into his mouth, nibbling and suckling as Cas writhes. His hands stroke further under the sweater, fingertips brushing across shoulder blades. Following Dean’s lead, one of Cas’ hands dips under Dean's shirt, feeling his torso and chest. When his fingers brush across a nipple, Dean growls and nips at a spot just behind Cas’ jaw. Cas throws his head back, and groans.

This… this is more than Dean ever hoped for, and his cock is throbbing, caught at an odd angle in his jeans. The way they're twisted around on the couch can’t be that comfortable for Cas, either. Dean sneaks a hand down, brushing lightly against Cas’ groin, and his hips buck as he traces the outline of his hard cock. His own cock twitches in response, and Cas growls out, “Dean!”

His mouth latches right onto Cas’ again, and he stands up, pulling Cas with him. “C’mon,” he whispers into his mouth, pecking and nipping at Cas’ lips as he pulls him toward the bedroom. They’re only going to go as far as Cas is comfortable, Dean doesn’t care how blueballed he gets as long as Cas is okay. Once they reach the edge of the bed, he pulls Cas in close, and grinds their hips together. Cas’ knees almost give out on him, and a strangled shout escapes his lips.

“Can I take these off?” Dean huffs against Cas’ mouth.

“Please,” he moans in response.

With urgency, Dean reaches down and flicks open the button of Cas’ jeans, tugs down the zipper as Cas’ hips buck against the pressure. He works the fabric down Cas’ hips, keeping his boxers in place. Then he works on his own jeans, sighing in relief when he’s free of the confining clothing. Cas takes the opportunity as soon as Dean kicks his jeans free to press flush against him, and the feel of their cocks rubbing together makes both of them moan into each other’s mouths.

That sweater has to go next. Cas is reluctant to pull away from Dean’s mouth long enough to pull it over his head, but as soon as he’s free of it, his fingers fight with the buttons of Dean’s flannel. Once he has the shirt opened, he makes a bold move and licks down Dean’s neck, and nibbles on a collarbone.

“Cas, bed, now.” They’re gonna end up in the floor if they don’t get off their feet soon.

Cas pulls back, his eyes dark and hooded, lips swollen and red. He’s breathing heavily, and his eyes flit over Dean’s body before crawling up onto the bed. The sight of that ass is almost enough to make Dean snap and tackle him, pull down those boxers and finger him open and gasping, but that can wait, this is about Cas tonight. When Cas gets to the pillows, he stretches out on his stomach, grinding his hips into the covers. Desperately clinging to his own self control, Dean slides next to him, and kisses his shoulder.

“Under the covers.”

Cas groans, and Dean helps get both of them in between the sheets, and facing each other. Sliding under the cool covers dampens their arousal slightly, and now Cas is tracing patterns on Dean’s chest.  

“I had no idea anything could feel this way,” he whispers.

“Oh, Cas, we’ve barely gotten started.”

Cas’ eyes widen, “I don’t know if I can go all the way.”

Dean smiles, and leans in to press their foreheads together. “Cas, you have no idea all the ways we can go that don’t include penetration.”

Brushing their noses together, Cas whispers against his mouth, “Will you show me?”

And that’s all it takes for Dean to grab Cas’ hips, and begin rutting against him. Cas is a quick learner, and rolls his hips while licking into Dean’s mouth. They still have their underwear on, but Cas is tugging on Dean’s waistband impatiently. Dean reaches into Cas’ boxers and grabs two handfuls of ass, squeezing and causing a moan. Soon they’re kicking off their underwear, and Dean pulls back to look at Cas.

“I’m assuming you’ve masturbated before.”

Cas nods.

“Good.” Dean pulls their hips flush together, “Give them both a squeeze, same as if it was just you.”

Cas reaches between them, and takes both their cocks in hand, gasping at the sensation. Dean bites back a groan. He leans over to reach into his nightstand, and pulls out a tube of lube and a hand towel.

He holds up the lube, “This will prevent chafing,” and he grabs the towel, “And for cleanup.”

Popping the top on the lube, he asks for Cas to hold out his hand, and he pours some on. Cas rubs it between his fingers, feeling how slick it gets.

“Better than lotion, huh?”

With a heated look, Cas reaches down between them with his slick hand, and resumes stroking. It’s not long before he’s a panting mess again, rutting against Dean and into his fist. Dean grasps a hip to slow him down.

“It’s not a race, Cas.”

Cas glares at him and growls, “I need it now, Dean.”

Oh, fuck. That does it for him, and he gives up, reaching in and wrapping his own hand around them, helping Cas stroke. He slides a knee in between Cas’ legs and matches his rhythm, bucking their hips in time together, kisses growing sloppy. As soon as Cas’ hips start to stutter, Dean reaches down, fondling Cas’ balls, and presses their foreheads together, sharing breath. He keeps his eyes open, wanting to watch Cas come.

The length sliding against his own stiffens, and then throbs, and Cas’ body locks up as come pulses out of his cock. Cas clenches his teeth and groans, and Dean watches the way his eyebrows scrunch together. Feeling Cas come against him makes Dean wrap his hand around where Cas’ strokes are slowing, and he picks up the pace, continuing to grind while Cas’ cock keeps twitching and spurting. Dean has always been one to enjoy other’s pleasure, and watching Cas fall apart has him so close to the edge.

He rests his forehead to Cas’ shoulder, and twists his wrist just so, feeling the slick slide of hands and cocks, knowing he’s all slippery with both lube and hot come, and he’s there, balls drawing tight, and he keeps grinding up, calling out, “Cas!” as he milks himself dry. Cas is whimpering from the overstimulating friction, and Dean releases him, slipping the towel down to wipe them up.

Cas flops on his back and stares at the ceiling while he catches his breath. Once Dean’s done wiping up, he props up on an elbow and grins down at him. “Well?”

Cas blinks slowly at him, “That felt too good to not be a sin.”

“Does that mean you regret it?” Dean dips his head to look at Cas through his lashes.

Closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath, Cas says, “I’m not cut out to be a saint, Dean.” He opens his eyes and looks at Dean, “No, I don’t regret it.” He smiles, and reaches for Dean’s hand, “And I’d like to do it again.” Yawning, curls onto his side, facing the other way and pulling Dean with him. “But now, sleep.”

Dean lays like that, arm wrapped around Cas’ waist, fingers entwined, as Cas falls asleep. He’s not sure how this is going to end up, and he’s gonna hurt like hell when it ends, because it always does. But for now, he’s content to watch the man before him sleep, sated and happy. He doesn’t know how, but the stranger he found in the snowbank just a handful of days ago, has dug into his heart. It takes him a while to fall asleep himself, as he watches over Cas, who has no idea how much Dean loves him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, Readers!  
> Thanks to everyone who shared this, and to everyone who reads and enjoys it.  
> Depending on my mood, I might try to do a third chapter for New Year.  
> We'll see. But for now, it's complete!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Name changed, originally Christmas Kindness)  
> This was supposed to be a chapter that ran all the way to New Year's. Oops, it grew well past that.  
> It's a monster!  
> Have some more fluffy porn!  
> I'll try to get the next one posted tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to give Dean or Cas a specific age, or choose a particular year, so I decided to be lazy and use this year as a reference for the days of the week.   
> Sorry that the New Year portion will be posted after the new year!

The alarm goes off, and Dean reaches over to silence it, eyes closed. As he does, the body next to him groans and rolls over. He’s still hazy from sleep, and he wonders who he brought home, because he rarely does that. Then it hits him. Oh, he brought someone home, alright. He opens his eyes, and looks over at the dark head of hair next to him. Last night, they… He and Cas did…

 _Shit, I’m fucked_.

Dean rolls out of bed and stumbles to the bathroom. Dammit, he’s gone and done it now. He has been careful for so long now, keeping his sexual activities at arm’s length from everything else in his life.

In the bathroom, he starts the shower and concentrates on his aim while relieving himself. Once in under the spray of hot water, he lets his mind wander again as he automatically lathers up. What’s he going to do now? First of all, he’s gotta get to work, so he’ll have the day to mull over a plan. If he’s lucky, Cas will have gone back to sleep.

No such luck. When Dean creeps back into his bedroom for a change of clothes, the bed is empty. After quickly getting dressed, Dean heads into the kitchen, hoping to gauge his next move based on Cas’ reaction. He finds him standing at the coffeepot, watching it brew. Cas turns to him, rubbing his face and pushing a hand up into his hair, making it even more messy. And damn if it doesn’t look good.

“G’morning, Dean,” he yawns.

“Mornin’.”

Cas watches with a sleepy expression as Dean gets a travel mug from the cabinet.

“You have to work today?”

“Yeah,” Dean says with a shrug, “Since I took Christmas Eve off, I gotta work the day after.”

Cas nods, still half asleep. “Okay.”

Great, if he’s lucky, Dean will get out the door without anything too awkward. He eyes the coffeepot and calculates how much longer he has until he can get out of here.

“So… yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Feel free to make yourself at ho— err, make yourself comfortable. Help yourself to the TV and Netflix account, what’s in the fridge, whatever.”

The coffee’s to its final gargling, hissing dribbles, and he swipes the carafe to fill his mug, a couple of errant drops hissing on the hotplate before he can put it back in place.  

“Well, ahh… gotta go. See you this evening, after five?”

Cas nods and gives Dean a soft smile that makes him just want to wrap his arms around the guy and give him a big old kiss. But he dashes out the door to warm up the Impala instead. The car is colder than the ninth circle of Hell, and Dean could easily wait for her to warm up inside his apartment, but that might mean an actual conversation with Cas, and he’s just not ready for that yet. Instead, he sits hunched over, hands wrapped around his travel mug, until the engine’s warm enough for the vents to defrost a large enough patch on the windshield that he can see through.

Dean arrives to work early, the first one there, actually. He unlocks and gets started on cranking up the old, industrial heaters that make the work bays survivable during the winter months. By the time Bobby shows up, he’s got the ancient Bunn set up with a full carafe of fresh coffee. The old man is obviously sporting a hangover from yesterday, and Dean sets a bottle of Aleve next to Bobby’s cup.

“Boy, why are you here so damn early?”

Shrugging, Dean turns away to look through the waiting work orders. “Woke up early, without a hangover, so figured I’d get a head start.”

Bobby grunts over his coffee, then says, “What about your houseguest?”

Glad that he’s not facing the old man, Dean drops the stack of orders and ducks his head. “Dude can take care of himself, and I can’t pay the bills hanging at home when there’s work to be done.” It’s time for a distraction. He looks up at Bobby and asks, “You want donuts?”

Bobby makes a grumbling noise, then says, “Don’t forget the maple bars.”

***

The rest of the day, Dean fixes timing belts, replaces a couple of sensors, and does some more work on the restoration project he’s got going. It’s a 1957 Chevy Nomad, that the owner chose to have painted a metallic burgundy. It had been hauled in from where it’d been sitting in someone’s backyard, and has needed a lot of work. Not to mention how hard it’s been trying to find parts for the thing.

By mid-afternoon, Dean still has no idea what he’s going to do about the Cas situation. Obviously, he’s going to help the guy find a job, so he can live on his own. What he’s most afraid of is that Cas will become attached to him and not want to leave. The dude’s practically a virgin, and managed to hook up with the first person to help him out after having all his shit stolen. It would be easy to latch on to that and think it all means more than it should. And then of course, when it all eventually comes crashing down, and either he’ll just up and leave, or Dean will have to be the bad guy and kick him out.

But then again. maybe Cas doesn't even want to stay? After all, it’s not like he wanted to end up in this town. The thought should make Dean feel relieved, but it doesn't. And that’s another thing, he’s gotten way too attached to this weird dude that just kind of fell into his life. His brother once called Dean’s problem for falling for people that need help White Knight Syndrome, after taking a psychology class.

So, to avoid the pattern, he should avoid Cas, help him get out on his own. Right? Dean sighs and takes a mallet to a warped motor mount and pushes other thoughts from his mind. By the end of the day, Dean is no closer to a resolution, and tries to get Bobby to let him work over the weekend.

“What the hell is wrong with you, boy? Ain't that Cas fellow still stayin’ with you?”

“Yes, Bobby.”

“Then quit neglecting your company and go home, you idjit.”

Dean drags his ass over to his car, and sits while she warms up again. He’s tempted to go stop for a drink on the way home, maybe get some groceries. But he doesn't need the lowered inhibitions when he sees Cas waiting for him, and he doesn't know what he needs from the store. And of course Cas doesn’t have a cellphone. Cursing under his breath, Dean puts his Baby in drive, and heads home to face the music.

As soon as Dean walks in the door, he can tell there’s something different. He takes his time looking around, and it hits him. The place is clean. Like really clean. Dean’s not a slob or anything, but he usually keeps the apartment tidy and clutter free. He can tell the living room’s been fucking thoroughly dusted, because the TV stand is shining, he can see it from here. That, and there’s the faint smell of Pine-sol. Someone’s been a busy beaver while Dean’s been gone. He also smells what might just be dinner, and he follows his nose to the kitchen to investigate.

Sure enough, Cas has the table set, plates and silverware already in place, and the kitchen is spotless. The countertops are cleared, there’s a fresh kitchen towel hanging from the handle of the fridge, and the oven is on low, probably keeping whatever Cas made warm. Dean looks down and suspects the smell of Pine-sol is coming from a freshly scrubbed floor, and he remembers he’s still wearing boots.

While he’s untying the laces, Dean realizes that Cas seems to be missing from the picture. He notices Cas’ shoes are lined up neatly next to the front door, and he makes an effort to tuck his laces in and do the same with his own boots. Heading into his room, he sees the bed has been neatly made, and he can catch a lingering whiff of Febreze. Wow. Just, wow. He heads to the bathroom to find the door closed, and gives it a couple of knocks.

“Just a minute!” Cas calls from the other side. Well, there’s the answer to one mystery.

Dean’s heading back to the kitchen when the bathroom door opens and Cas comes out, freshly showered and hair still damp. “Welcome home, Dean.”

Dammit, how is Dean supposed to keep his distance when Cas put in all this effort, _and_ looks like this? The guy has combed his wet hair back from his forehead, and it looks black, which just brings out the color of his eyes even more. He’s wearing the Stanford sweatshirt Sam got Dean a couple of years ago, the sleeves pushed up his forearms, sweatpants riding low on his hips. Cas is wearing his new socks, too.

Dean stares dumbfounded as Cas sweeps by, apologizing for still being in the bathroom, then heads into the kitchen. Not knowing what else to do, Dean follows behind. He watches Cas pull out a casserole dish from the oven, and bring it to the table.

“How was your day?” Cas asks, digging around in a kitchen drawer and coming back with a turning spatula and serving spoon.

“Uhh, it was um, good, I guess.” This is the first time since he moved in that Dean has felt like a stranger in his own apartment, and he doesn't know what else to do except stand in the entrance of the kitchen, watching Cas bustle about. He’s asked what he wants to drink, and he says, “Dr. Pepper.”

Cas grabs a can and sets it on the table next to an empty glass, then turns to Dean. “Are you ready to eat? Do you need a moment to get washed up?”

This snaps Dean out of the daze of seeing Cassie Homemaker apparently in his natural element. “Yeah, lemme go use the can, be right back.”

Once in the bathroom, Dean does his business and flushes, then stares at his hands at the sink. He’s normally used to the sight of grime embedded in his cuticles and under his nails, but this time he digs under the sink for a nail brush and scrubs until his nail beds are raw. He can tell that Cas has cleaned up in here too, and makes an effort to wipe down the sink after he’s splashed everywhere. Hands scrubbed, face washed, and damp fingers run through his hair, Dean heads back to the kitchen, where Cas is already seated and waiting.

As soon as Dean hits his seat, Cas is talking about not knowing what to make for dinner, and he hopes Dean doesn’t mind leftovers. Using the turning spatula, Cas cuts through the cheesy crust of the casserole, and scoops out what looks like most of the components from Christmas dinner. Cas looks at him expectantly, and Dean holds out his plate. The top layer is mashed potato, and then there’s green bean casserole, and turkey, with stuffing on the bottom. On the table is an actual bowl full of reheated sweet potato casserole. Dean would have normally just have heated up the storage container and eaten straight out of it. Cas scoops out a serving for himself, and Dean sees there’s even enough for a second helping. Completely out of his element, Dean stares dumbly at his plate.

“Is everything alright?”

Blinking, Dean glances up to see Cas with a worried expression. He gives himself a shake and reaches for a fork. “Yeah, Cas. Everything looks great, just wasn't expecting…” he waves his fork in a circle, “all this.”

Cas manages to look downright bashful, and looks at his own plate. “It’s the least I can do, after everything.”

Two forkfuls into his meal, Dean realizes that Cas is still sitting with his hands in his lap, eyes closed and head bowed. “Y’ok, Cas?”

Cas takes a deep breath, and glances up at Dean, “Sorry, it’s a rather ingrained habit to say Grace before a meal.”

That’s something Dean hadn't bothered to notice before, probably because he’s usually stuffing his face. “Oh.” He sets his fork down.

“Please, don’t stop on my account. For all I know, no one’s listening to _me_ , anyway.”

Swallowing around a sudden lump in his throat, Dean looks up at Cas, who is now digging into his own food. “I, um… Thanks, Cas. For, you know, doing all this.”

Cas waves his hand in dismissal as he swallows his food, “No no, like I said, it’s the least I can do.”

Dean nods and stares at his plate again, and sends a quick little prayer of his own, thanking whoever is listening that he was the one to find Cas that night. After that, dinner goes like normal, although Dean tries to watch his table manners a bit. Somehow Cas managed to make the leftovers taste even better than they did yesterday, and he swears he didn't do anything to them other than layer them in the dish and throw some shredded cheese on top.

While Dean goes back for seconds, Cas sets down his fork and says, “So I was thinking, since I don’t really have anything of my own anymore, and nowhere in particular to go, I should try to find a job.”

Dean had managed to completely forget the dilemma he has been struggling with all day, and here’s Cas, bringing it up on his own.

Continuing, Cas says, “I’m sure that this time of year is the absolute worst for trying to find even part time work, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to the library tomorrow.”

Confused, Dean asks, ‘Why d’ya need to go to the library to look for a job?”

“Well,” Cas glances sideways, “Since I don’t have any resources like a computer or cell phone… I should pick up a cheap prepaid phone. By the way, if you know where I can get one… I was thinking of using the library computers for my search.”

Dean knows Cas has seen the laptop tucked away on Dean’s dresser, since he seems to have cleaned absolutely everything today. “You can use my computer. I wouldn't mind at all.”

Surprised blue eyes look up at him. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Dude,” Dean chuckles, “if it was gonna be a burden, I wouldn't have offered.”

Dean says Cas can use the computer any time, and offers to get it for him right now. Cas says it’s unnecessary, and before long their meal is over and they’re putting dishes in the dishwasher. Cas makes a comment about the convenience of the machine, and confesses that he never used one before. Once the dishwasher is running, Dean heads for the living room, Cas following behind. One conversation down, one more to go.

He sits there with the remote in his hand, chewing his bottom lip as he tries to figure out how to bring the subject up.

“Is something the matter?” asks Cas.

With a sigh, Dean puts down the remote and turns to Cas, whose eyes are wide with confusion and concern. “Cas, about last night…” Well, he started it, now what?

He swears he can see the emotions actually shut off behind Cas’ eyes. “It’s alright, Dean. While I am inexperienced, I’m not completely naïve.”

Dean manages to blink stupidly at Cas as he continues. “It’s my understanding that society is… quite promiscuous, compared to the community in which I was raised. While I appreciate the experience you offered last night, I would be remiss to assume it meant anything more than… merely acting upon a mutual attraction.”

What the Hell? Remiss? Dean will admit he _is_ kinda promiscuous, but Cas just thought Dean was hot, and decided he wanted a ride? While it kind of makes Dean feel a bit used, this solves one problem. Cas isn't expecting feelings out of this. While Dean rarely goes back for seconds when it comes to casual flings, there’s so much he can show Cas. Well, that, and it’s not so casual from Dean’s side of things. But if he tries hard enough, he might be able to bury it so far down it might not hurt so bad when Cas leaves.

He realizes that Cas is looking at him with even more concern, so Dean says, “C’mere, Cas,” and drags him into his lap.

Sly half grin on his face, he says, “Are you attracted to me?”

Cas blushes profusely, “I wouldn't have done what happened last night were that not the case.”

Dean’s arms slide around Cas’ waist, “Well I’m attracted to you, as well.”

This makes Cas look away, all bashful-like. It just makes Dean want to hold on even tighter. He’s playing a dangerous game, knows it’s all for nothing, and decides to play anyway. Leaning forward, he brushes his stubbled chin up Cas’ neck, watching him shiver in response.

He whispers in his ear, “You want me to show you more, Cas?”

Cas sighs and relaxes in his arms, “Please.”

Remembering the sensitive spots from last night, Dean grazes his teeth just behind Cas’ jaw. The hitched breath he receives in response is his reward, and he slides his hands up under Cas’ sweatshirt, grabbing his hips.

“C’mon,” he breathes against the column of Cas’ neck, “bring one leg over.”

Once Cas is straddling him, Dean reaches up for a quick peck on the lips, before leaning back, looking up at the man on top of him. Hands sliding back up that sweatshirt, Dean palms up Cas’ chest, feeling his pectorals and tweaking his nipples. Back arching, Cas bites his lip and looks down at Dean, hunger burning in his eyes.

“Whaddya wanna do, Cas?”

This brings Cas’ mouth crashing onto Dean’s, and he licks, nibbles and suckles, leaving them both breathless. Dean throws his head back, and Cas takes to mouthing along Dean’s throat, exploring his reactions. It’s driving him to distraction, because he’s really trying to let Cas figure out what works.

When Cas bites down right where his neck meets his shoulder, Dean bucks his hips, grabs Cas by the neck and dives tongue first into his mouth. One hand goes to Cas’ ass, and he pulls him down to grind up against. Cas growls and grinds down harder. That fucking growl sends tingles up Dean’s spine, and he’s gotta get the sweatshirt off of Cas, like now.

Pulling up on the shirt, he gets Cas to sit up and take it off. But while Cas is pulling it over his head, Dean latches onto a nipple, which makes Cas go rigid, and almost forget to finish removing the shirt. While Dean laves and suckles at the hardened nub, Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair, nails scratching his scalp. When one nipple gets too sensitive, he switches to the other, and he notices the dark mole just above it, as his hands explore Cas’ body, knead his ass, stroke his thighs. He licks up to Cas’ neck, and finds new places that make him squirm and whimper.

Eventually, Cas grinding up against him becomes too much, so Dean pulls back and breathes, “Get up on your knees.”

With the shift in position comes more for Dean to pay attention to, and he trails his tongue down Cas’ stomach. He notices how thin Cas is; although after a couple days of regular meals, he’s starting to fill out again, his ribs less noticeable. Hands dip below the waistband of Cas’ sweatpants, and Dean finally registers that there’s no underwear underneath. And oh, if that doesn't just make him burn even hotter. He wonders if Cas was expecting this.

Tugging down the sweats till they sit just below Cas’ ass cheeks, Dean has to lean back to free the hard cock holding up the front. Last night had been more about the sensations, and he hadn't gotten a good look at it before. Now, it’s right before him, and Dean takes the opportunity to see if his expectations match reality. Just like he’d felt last night, it’s got a slight upward curve, and the skin is a little darker than expected. It’s a little bit longer and thinner than Dean’s, and for a brief moment he can’t help but imagine the feel of it stretching him open.

 _C’mon, Dean._ Focus.

Dean traces his knuckles down the smooth length, making Cas gasp and buck. He’s a bit bushy down below, but a guy raised by religious fanatics probably wouldn't see the necessity of manscaping. Cupping Cas’ balls, he gives them a playful tug, making Cas buck again. They’re actually quite impressive, and would definitely make an attractive package in a nice pair of boxer-briefs.

He looks up to see Cas, eyes closed, and blushing so hard it’s mottling his chest. “You alright?” Dean asks, giving those balls another squeeze. Cas actually whines, and keeps his eyes scrunched tight when he replies.

“I, ahh, it’s a little embarrassing, having you just _look_ at it like that.”

“But I’m not just looking,” Dean teases, blowing across the tip of his cock.

It causes Cas to practically choke. “ _Dean_ ,” he breathes needily.

“Open your eyes, Cas.”

Cas blinks, and then looks straight ahead.

“Nooo, down here.” He blows across the head again, giving Cas’ balls another squeeze.

Cas’ eyes almost roll all the way back in his head, and his legs start shaking. Finally, he looks down. And oh, he looks magnificent. He’s been biting his lip, Dean can still see the teeth marks. He’s flushed all over, and those eyes are so dilated, they’re almost midnight blue. Dean locks eyes with him before pressing his lips to the underside of his cockhead, and the jolt sends Cas nearly falling off Dean’s lap.

“What… You… I…”

Dean has to abandon his hold on Cas’ balls to keep a firm grip on his ass, holding him in place, as he flicks his tongue across the very tip of the head. A shuddering breath escapes Cas’ lips, and Dean watches as Cas struggles to keep his eyes open at the sensation. As soon as Cas is watching again, Dean wraps his lips all the way around the head.

“Nngaaahh!” Cas throws his head back, and his hips buck, dick twitching in Dean’s mouth.

Oh Jesus, it’s worth it for the reaction alone, and Dean swirls his tongue around to watch Cas shudder, and his hips press his length deeper past Dean’s lips. Dean ignores the uncomfortable throbbing of his own cock trapped in his pants, wanting to watch Cas react, how he loses control. He slides his mouth down, slowly encasing Cas’ cock in his hot mouth. Hands latch into his hair, and he suckles, rewarded by another buck of the hips and a stuttering groan.

Determined to see just how fast he can make Cas come, he takes a breath through his nose, and sinks all the way down, flattening his tongue, until he’s nose-deep in pubic hair. With Cas’ cock all the way back in his throat, he swallows.

“HaaaaAAAhh!”

Cas is practically sobbing, and Dean pulls back to get a different grip on Cas, and take a breath. The whole time he keeps that cock in his mouth, suckling and twirling his tongue along the head. He has Cas shaking like a leaf, completely overcome by what Dean’s doing, hands fisted in Dean’s hair, panting and making the most delicious sounds. Dean takes him all the way back down and hums, sliding a thumb between Cas’ ass cheeks to press at his perineum, sliding casually across his hole.

It’s not long before Cas’ hips jerk, his cock swells, and just like Dean predicted, Cas is coming in record time. He barks out a harsh breath as he comes, body frozen in an arch. Dean swallows the first jolts straight down, then slides up so he can actually taste it, lick it off the head, milk Cas with his lips. As soon as he stops spasming, Cas collapses in a heap in Dean’s lap, completely dazed and out of breath.

Gently, Dean props him up on the arm of the couch, and palms at his own straining, aching cock. Cas’ eyes follow the motion, and the tip of his tongue pokes out between his teeth as he watches. Emboldened by the attention, and the sight of the completely wrecked man, Dean puts on a show, spreading his legs and slowly unbuttoning his jeans, grinding up as he pulls down the zipper. Hoping his winter pudge doesn't turn Cas off too much, he pulls up his shirt, holding it in his teeth as he raises his ass off the couch, pushing down his jeans and underwear in one move.

Cas watches, jaw slack, and licks his lips as Dean gets comfortable and takes himself in hand. He starts slow, pulling up on the shaft so the skin bunches around the head, slides his thumb through the precome drooling from the tip. Dean looks down at himself, then up at Cas through his lashes. Cas’ eyes meet his briefly, before trailing back down to lock on Dean’s hand slowly stroking up and down his cock.

With a grin, Dean speeds up, sliding his hand up around the head, showing Cas what he likes. If it wouldn't be an awkward position while showing Cas, Dean would slide a finger down to tease his own hole, but he can save that for another time. Oh, fuck. They’re going to have another time. That’s almost enough right there to finish him off, and Dean might be embarrassed by how quickly he comes, if Cas wasn't watching the whole process with a blush on his cheeks. Dean remembers to catch his come in his hand to keep from making a mess, shuddering out a groan, and Cas almost looks disappointed that he doesn't get to see it spurting.

They recover for a few more minutes, Cas curling up as the sweat on his body cools. Dean uses his toes to catch his underwear, and he uses that to clean off his hand. He glances over at Cas who’s trying to reach his sweatshirt to pull it back on. Too bad it’s winter, it’d be fun to chase Cas around naked. It might actually be worth the higher power bill to do it anyway.

“I need a shower,” he groans, feeling the tacky sweat under his balls.

“Hmmm…” Cas replies, his head propped on the arm of the couch. It seems Cas is one of those guys that gets sleepy after a good orgasm. It’s only a little after seven, but Cas apparently cleaned every inch of the place, so if he passes out, Dean’s not gonna complain.

“C’mon, dude. Go crawl into bed.”

That has Cas snapping his eyes open, and staring at Dean with a confused frown. “Bed? But…”

Dean shakes his head, a smile on his face. “I just had your dick down my throat. Why wouldn't you get to sleep in my bed?” Of course, Dean doesn't mention that he rarely has sex in his own apartment, and even when he does it somewhere else, he rarely stays the night. He liked falling asleep next to Cas, and wants that again. Maybe some fooling around in the morning.

Cas is blushing again, and he’s so cute when he’s flustered. “Thank you. Uhh…” he stands up on wobbly legs, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to use the bathroom first.”

Dean waves him off, and grabs something to change into. By the time he’s done with his shower, Cas is snoring softly on what is now his side of the bed. Dean tries really hard to not think about the fact that they have their own sides of the bed. _It’s only temporary,_ he tells himself.

Now that he’s had a shower, Dean’s not tired. He flips through the channels on TV, and nothing’s on that catches his eye. It’s not even nine o’clock yet, and now he’s wondering what to do with himself. Normally he’d go hang out at the Roadhouse or something, but with Cas here… Well, he shouldn't change his habits just because he has a roommate he’s screwing, right?

It’s a Friday night, the Roadhouse is gonna be full of people caught in between Christmas and New Year’s. Maybe he can hang out, play a couple games of pool, have a few beers. Mind made up, Dean sneaks into the bedroom to grab a pair of jeans and a flannel. As soon as he’s dressed, he’s out the door and on his way to the Roadhouse.

He spends the next few hours as planned, hanging out, playing pool, having a couple of beers. Ash asks where his boyfriend is, and Dean tells him to shut up, Cas isn't his boyfriend.

“Aww, c’mon, Deanie. I got the pictures that say otherwise.”

Dean leans back against the bar and takes a swig of beer. “If I dated everyone I've kissed, then that would include both you and Jo, Ash.”

Ash shudders, remembering a night when they were still in school, and an unfortunate game of truth or dare. “Point. But still, I said it then, and I still mean it. Between you two? Chemistry.”

Dean shrugs and finishes off the last of his beer. “Whatever. I’m just helping the guy out for a while. Turns out he’s looking for a job.”

Jo, who has been stacking glasses, turns to Dean and says, “Hey, we could use a little extra help. Ryan broke his leg during a ski trip and will be out for at least a couple of months.”

That sounds like a terrible idea, Cas getting even more entrenched in his life. “I dunno, Jo. He’s from a really religious family. He might not even want to work at a bar.”

Jo rolls her eyes and smacks Dean with her bar towel. “If you don’t at least ask him, Dean Winchester, I’ll cut off your bar tab.”

Dean shrugs and ducks a second swipe from Jo with the towel. “Alright, alright.”

He looks down at his empty beer bottle, and calculates if he should have another. Jo recognizes the look and tugs the bottle from his grasp.

“If you plan on driving, that’s enough.”

He gives her a grumbly pout, and knows she’s right. He spends another half hour shooting the shit with some regulars before dragging his ass home in the frigid night. Once home, he spends very little time preparing for bed, and crawls in next to Cas in pajama pants and a t-shirt, curling up against the man’s back for warmth.

In the morning, Dean blinks slowly and realizes he’s alone, the bed suddenly feeling much colder than it should, even when he buries himself under the covers. Eventually he burrows his way out, the need to piss overriding his desire to remain horizontal. Besides, he should figure out where Cas wandered off to.

After draining his bladder and brushing the fuzz off his teeth and tongue, Dean wanders into the kitchen, to see Cas with a slight frown, busy on the laptop. He grunts as he pulls a coffee mug from the cabinet and fills it with the still-hot coffee. He takes a sip and wonders just how long it’s been warming, as it tastes like sludge.

He looks over at Cas’ hunched shoulders, “Been up long?”

“Hmmm,” is all he gets as a reply, Cas scrolling through something on the screen.

Frowning at his mug, Dean commits sacrilege and pours a little off the top, then adds milk. Sitting down at the table across from Cas, Dean notices a small plate that must have once held toast if the dusting of crumbs is anything to go by. Halfway through his coffee, and Cas hasn't said a word, but occasionally stops what he’s doing to type something.

With a sigh, Dean sets down his mug and snaps his fingers a couple of times above the laptop’s screen, until Cas’ eyes turn to him.

“Hey, Earth to Cas?”

“What is it, Dean?”

The almost cold, dismissive way he says it takes Dean aback. The downward turn of his mouth deepens, as he eyes Dean coolly. This is a side of Cas he hasn’t seen yet, and he wonders what caused it.

“How long have you been up, man?”

Cas’ eyes flick back to the screen, “A little after five.”

Maybe this is ‘been up since the ass-crack of dawn’ Cas. Dean glances at the clock and sees it’s just past ten. With a side of ‘been up about five hours longer than you and bored’ as well, apparently. Stretching his arms over his head, Dean gets back up to root through the fridge to figure out something for breakfast. Or is it technically brunch now? If he fixes something for Cas, then it may well be.

“You hungry? I can whip up something for both of us.”

“You needn't go out of your way on my account,” Cas grates from the table. Yeah, someone definitely pissed in his cornflakes.

Dean rummages through the fridge, and finds a can of biscuits. An idea forming, he grabs the eggs, some shredded cheese, and sliced ham. He sits it all on the counter and digs through the cabinets under the counter until he triumphantly holds up a muffin pan.

Smiling to himself, he preheats the oven and unwraps the biscuit dough, silently laughing when the pop causes Cas to jump. He peels the biscuits apart one by one, stretching them to line the muffin cups. Then, he sprinkles a mound of cheese in each, and beats a few eggs and pours them evenly between all of them. Finally, he chops up some of the ham and layers it on top, then tosses the pan in the oven.

While he waits for it to cook, he pours out the last of the coffee and cleans up. After about fifteen minutes, Dean pulls the hot biscuits out of the oven, and serves up a couple on a plate. He takes the plate and a fork, gently closes the laptop, and sets the plate in front of Cas.

Cas looks at the plate in confusion, then up at Dean, his earlier sour expression gone. With a soft smile, Dean pats Cas on the shoulder as he heads to pile his own plate with his creation. When he sits down, Cas has already bisected one of the biscuits with his fork, and is examining the cross-section.

“You gonna study it or eat it, Cas?”

Dean’s all smug with the feeling of both lightening Cas’ mood, and showing him something new. His pride swells a little more with Cas’ first bite, which makes him let out a surprised “Mmmmm”. Dean digs into his own, and thinks of all the things he can make with a can of biscuits. Mini pizzas, pigs in a blanket, chicken and dumplings or pot pie, little turnover pies, donuts. Damn, Dad’s campfire donuts were the best. He looks up to see Cas has cleaned his plate.

“Dean,” Cas says tentatively, “What are those called?”

Huh, did his mom really call them anything? “Uhh, breakfast muffin cups, I guess. I just remember Mom making these on weekends.” He smiles fondly at how she’d let him and Sammy help stretch the biscuits and pile up the cheese.

“Well, they’re very delicious.”

Dean leans back in his chair and smiles at Cas, “Looks like you finally removed that stick from your ass.”

Cas looks at him confused, and maybe a little offended, “I don’t know what you mean?”

“Dude, I came out here, and you've been a grumpy butt.”

Cas blinks at Dean, and stares down at the table.

“But it’s OK,” Dean rushes to say, “I understand you probably got bored waiting for me to wake up.”

“It was quite disconcerting,” Cas says, not looking up. “I woke up and you smelled of stale cigarettes and beer.”

Oh, yeah. It’s been a while since Dean has had to worry about how he smelled after a night out.

“I went to the Roadhouse, that Ellen owns?” he waits for Cas to nod before continuing, “You passed out so early, and there was nothing on TV, so…” He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck.

Cas clears his throat and stands, his plate in his hand. “It’s not like I have any say in how you spend your free time.”

While Cas goes to put his things in the sink, Dean thinks that maybe Cas might be just a little bit upset, like relationship upset. Oh, shit. He’s gonna have to rethink their whole situation if that’s the case.

He looks up and Cas is toying with the muffin tin, “After all, it’s unpleasant to roll over and get a face of _eau du pub_.”

A snort escapes from Dean. He has to hold back to keep from laughing out loud. That’s a relief. Cas wasn't mad about Dean going out, just that he stunk. Sniffing himself, Dean tries to catch a whiff of what Cas is talking about, but he can’t smell it.

Cas comes over and places a hand on his shoulder, sniffing Dean’s hair, “It’s mostly dissipated, but the cigarette smoke was in your hair, and the beer was coming from your pores.”

The feel of Cas’ face pressed up in his hair makes all sorts of happy feelings flit around in Dean’s chest, and he tamps them down, to avoid wrapping the man in his arms. He really needs to get a grip on these ridiculous feelings, and needs a distraction. Oh, right.

“By the way, how would you feel about working at a bar?”

Cas backs up, and looks down at him, head tilted. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Dean rubs at the back of his neck again, “Jo said they were short a man, and I mentioned you were looking…” Shit, didn't he originally want to avoid having Cas work at the Roadhouse?

“Hmmm…” Cas purses his lips and squints his eyes in thought, “I’ve never worked in a bar before. What would be required of me?”

Dean leans back and scratches his head, “Well, you don’t have a bartender’s license, but you could do clean-up, and they have a kitchen for bar food. I know you can cook.”

“And you said this is Ellen’s place?”

“Yup.”

“I’d like to speak with her if you don’t mind.”

Dean glances at the clock, “Yeah, sure. We can head over to the Roadhouse in a bit, it opens at noon.”

Well, he’s done it now. Cas is gonna end up working at Ellen’s, he knows it. And then, when the inevitable happens and Cas moves on, Dean’s gonna get the pity-party from EVERYONE. Either that, or Dean will be the asshole, and then everyone will lay on the guilt-trip. Fun times.

They both get ready to go, and Dean drives them to the Roadhouse right before it opens. Ellen sits down with Cas and interviews him while Dean gives Jo a hand with the daily bar-prep. Even on a Saturday, opening time is fairly quiet, and by the time Ellen finishes with Cas, there are a couple old regulars hanging out.

“Well, how did it go?”

Cas breaks out into a grin as Ellen heads for her office.

“Your boy starts training tomorrow for the opening shift. He’ll switch to cleanup during the prime-time changeover. After he shows how well he can handle the crowd, we can put him on bartender training.”

Wow. He’s getting put to use so soon? But then again, it’s the end of the year, and there are a lot of partiers that will be coming through. At least he gets to start out on the slow shift. Dean claps Cas on the back, and leans up against the bar. There are a couple of things they’ll need to figure out between now and tomorrow, but luckily they’ll have the rest of the day to sort all that out.

“I think we need to go shopping,” he says.

They head out to a local outlet mall, and pick up a couple pairs of black work slacks for Cas, as well as a pair of no-slip shoes. Dean debates between the form-fitting black t-shirts and button-ups, and Cas decides on both, for layers. Not that Dean minds, Cas will look good in both. Every time Dean sees Cas peeking at the price tags, he slaps his hands.

“Dude, I told you I’d take care of this, you can pay me back after you get a paycheck.” Yeah right. Dean doesn't care about the money that much, and if Cas tries to pay him back, then he’s going to find a way to give it back to him, all sneaky-like.

As they exit the store with their bags, Dean realizes Cas will need a phone of his own. Once they get their purchases in the back seat, Dean digs around in the glove compartment for his old phone. He knows Cas probably won’t let Dean buy him a brand new one, but Dean will be damned if he’ll let Cas get a shitty prepaid phone. Luckily, he just recently upgraded, so this one’s not that old yet. He hands it to Cas, and they head over to one of those cellphone stores that offers multiple services. After a little bickering with Cas about plan pricing and the pros and cons of each service, they have a new number for Cas, and Dean already has it on speed dial. Not to mention Dean is the first contact in Cas’ phone.

It’s getting later in the afternoon by the time they finish, and Dean’s thinking of some food. They go out to one of Dean’s favorite spots for burgers, and he grins wide at Cas’ reaction to the best burger in town. The way the guy moans around his burger makes Dean think about things he really shouldn't in public.

After they get home, Dean convinces Cas to watch a movie with him on the couch. He also manages to keep his hands to himself, because the last thing he needs is to have Cas think Dean’s like a total sex maniac, although around Cas he kind of is. Halfway through _Ghostbusters_ , Cas asks Dean to pause so he can get a glass of water.

It’s a good thing that Dean knows this movie well, because all he can think about is getting his hands on Cas. Afraid of getting caught staring, Dean has spent an inordinate amount of time just watching Cas’ hands during the movie. And that involved lots of staring at his lap, since that’s where they've been for most of it so far. Although he’s been increasingly fidgety for the last ten to fifteen minutes for some reason. Shifting in his seat, sliding his palms down his thighs, picking at cuticles. Dean really hopes this isn't boring, and he's just enduring it.

When Cas comes back with two glasses, he sets his own down first, then hands Dean the other. Unfortunately, Cas fumbles his grip, and much of it ends all over Dean’s front.

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry, Dean! I’ll be right back with some towels!”

Cringing at the cool wetness sinking into him, Dean carefully peels off his soaked shirt. At least it was just water. Cas rushes back with an armful of towels and begins mopping up the pooling spill. He places one on either side of Dean’s legs, and starts carefully daubing at his lap.

Oh Shit, oh fuck. He’s seen this in a porno, and it led to a fantastic blowjob. Dammit, even with the cold, soaked fabric, he’s getting a boner. “I… I can do this Cas, it’s ok.”

“No,” Cas says firmly, “I spilled it, I can clean it up.” And he proceeds to get closer and closer to Dean’s hardening dick.

“Umm, really Cas, I can handle this.” Dean tries to grab for the towel, and Cas just presses more desperately around Dean’s crotch.

Oh, the pressure’s just making him harder now, and a vision of Cas, on his knees just like this except with Dean’s cock sliding in and out of that fucking mouth flashes through his mind.

“Casss…” He grabs the man’s wrists, making him stop. “It’s okay, really,” he grates out.

But when Cas looks up at him, Dean notices the look of frustration, his dilated pupils…

 _Wait a minute. Is Cas… Is he trying to seduce me_? Dean thinks.

To test out the theory, Dean lets go of his wrists, apologizes, and leans back in his seat. Cas’ eyes immediately trail down his naked torso to Dean’s crotch, and he starts rubbing the towel firmly up and down the front of his jeans. And oh, he’s biting his lip now. Dean can’t tell at this angle, but he’d almost bet Cas is starting to sport his own boner.

“Cas,” Dean rolls his hips, “Maybe I should just peel these off. It’d be easier, don’t you think?”

The way Cas looks up at him, all big eyes and hopeful, Dean tries his best to not laugh. He undoes his fly, and then declares he needs help peeling down the wet fabric. Cas nearly chokes as he gets a very good look at the erection in Dean’s underwear as he does most of the work in yanking down the wet jeans.

Hell yes, they’re making a fucking cheesy porno come to life, and Dean’s loving it. As soon as the pants are off, Dean’s formulated a plan, and he stands up, ready to peel off his underwear.

“I guess these are next,” he declares, and as he leans over, manages to tip over Cas’ glass, so that it spills all over the bottom half of Cas’ jeans. Not exactly what Dean was hoping for, but good enough.

“Shit!”

Dean scrambles to place down a couple more towels on the floor, brushing up against Cas as much as possible. Yep, not only does Cas have a hard-on, his breathing has become more erratic, and he’s getting flushed in the face. Time to take it up a notch.

“It’s not a good idea to get all wet in the winter, we should go warm up in the shower.”

Yanking on Cas’ arm until he’s standing, Dean drags him to the bathroom and immediately begins stripping Cas out of his not-really-that-wet jeans. As Cas lets out a strangled little yelp, Dean grins, and he proceeds to slowly push down his jeans, letting his palms graze down those amazing things, and he remembers when he saw a similar sight, peeling a half-frozen Cas out of his clothes just a few days ago.

Kneeling in front of him, Dean is eye-level with the cock straining the front of Cas' underwear. He deliberately slides his hands back up the outsides of Cas' thighs, and helps relieve him of his shirt. He could immediately press their bodies together to get this show on the road, or drag it out a bit, see how long it takes Cas to make the first move. Mind made up, Dean backs away from dazed, sexy as fuck, man before him, and reaches to turn on the shower.

"I'll just get this started, and go ahead and hop in first." He can't help but trail his eyes down Cas' body, "But you should get in as soon as you finish getting undressed."

With a cocky grin, Dean strips his own underwear off, and hops into the shower, pulling the curtain closed behind him. Just on the other side of the curtain, it sounds like Cas is stumbling around in the bathroom, eagerly trying to get out of his own boxers. There's a deep breath, and Cas pulls back the curtain, gets in the shower, and turns to Dean.

He clears his throat, "Will... will you let me help you wash?"

Dean nods and hands him the washcloth. This is straight out of a different porn, and he's enjoying himself thoroughly, watching as the man before him shyly takes the washcloth and soap, gets it good and soapy, and proceeds to actually wash Dean. It feels good, and he's almost willing to ignore his twitching dick as Cas scrubs over his chest, down along his abs, and then each arm. Then Cas gently turns him around, and scrubs his back.

This is too precious, but he's gotta find a way to break the tension building, seeing as Cas can't actually get anywhere near Dean's dick now that it's unclothed and standing erect. Dean reaches around, grabbing Cas' wrist, and pulls the washcloth from his hand as he turns around to face him again.

"Your turn," he says softly, lathering up the cloth and starting in on Cas' body, following the same careful route, watching every twitch, every sigh. He maneuvers so Cas is the one in front of the spray, his back to him, and begins scrubbing along his shoulders, down his back, and farther, to Cas' very grabbable rear. A surprised noise escapes Cas, and Dean drops the cloth in favor of massaging that ass, sliding his hands around to grip Cas' hips.

Dean wants to make sure this is what Cas wants, so he presses his body fully up against him, sliding his dick up the crack of his ass. He gets a shudder from Cas, and he leans back instead of away, a good sign. Bringing his hands up to Cas' lower belly, he whispers into his ear, "Is this alright?"

Cas swallows and nods, leaning his head back to rest on Dean's shoulder.

Dragging his hands lower in slow, agonizing increments, Dean breathes into his ear, "Can I wash this too?" trailing his fingers through the pubic hair just above Cas' cock.

"Yuh- yes," Cas gasps.

With a smile, Dean nuzzles behind Cas' ear as he takes his dick in hand, pressing his hips against Cas' rear. Cas cries out, and presses one hand to the shower wall, the other grasping the curtain rod. Knowing that will get yanked down before too long, Dean pries the hand from the shower rod and brings it to his neck, giving Cas something to hold onto.

As Dean settles into a slow, loose stroke, Cas' hips match the rhythm. Steam billowing around them, Dean can't help but rock into the cleft of Cas' ass as well, listening to the gasps and moans that Cas can't hold back. The hand that had been pressed against the tile slides down, rests on Dean's hip, then boldly reaches in to grasp Dean's cock. He growls against Cas' neck, and pulls the hand away.

"Let me show you another way," he says, nibbling on an earlobe.

Cas nods, and Dean pulls his hips back, using his free hand to push his dick so that it slips between the tops of Cas' thighs, and pushes forward, feeling the head butt up against the back of Cas' balls. Cas gasps, and Dean nudges forward again.

"This okay?" he whispers.

"Uh huh..."

"Mmmmmm... Then press your thighs tighter together."

After a bit of repositioning, Cas squeezes his thighs together, and Dean rolls his hips, sliding into a rhythm that matches his hand. Cas picks up on that rhythm, and bucks his own hips, up into Dean's fist, back on Dean's cock. _Fuck, yes_. Dean tightens his grip, and speeds up. He knows just how long his shower will last before it goes cold, and he needs them to finish before then.

One hand guiding Cas' hip, the other pumping his cock, he whispers encouragement into his ear, licks down his neck, nibbles his earlobe.

"You're doing so good, Cas." "You feel amazing."

Cas has been reduced to stuttered breaths, unintelligible moaning, and the occasional "Dean". When Cas' hips start to stutter, Dean speeds up even more, knowing Cas is gonna come any minute.

"You're so hot, Cas." "Can you feel how hard I am for you?" "Gonna make me _COME_ ,"

The last word, growled into his ear, tips Cas over the edge, and he's coming, mouth pressed into Dean's neck to stifle his shouts, white splatting against the tile. Dean holds on through it all, and fuck, but it's hot. Unfortunately, Cas' thighs have gone slack, and he's not going to get the friction to finish.

"Cas, I need you to lean forward, hands against the tile."

He guides him into position, and slides his cock up the crack of that amazing ass one more time, before taking himself in hand, watching Cas catch his breath, water beating down on his back. As he strokes himself with quick precision, he slides a hand up Cas' back, along his side, down to his hip.

Dean can feel it, coming close, and he grates out, "Ohh, fuck yes... you're so perfect... Cas... Ga _aahhh_!"

As his come shoots out, he watches it land on Cas' ass, watches as the water washes it away.  Once he's done, he pulls Cas back so that they're leaning against each other, and he wraps his arms around him. Nuzzling into his ear, Dean whispers, "Did you just seduce me, Mr. Collins?"

Cas tilts his head back so he can whisper into Dean's ear, "Maybe I did."

Dean laughs, face pressed into Cas' neck, and squeezes his arms tighter before letting go. "C'mon, we gotta finish up before the water goes cold."

They quickly take turns shampooing and rinsing under the spray, then towel each other off, grinning and sharing little kisses. Dean chases Cas back into the bedroom, where they slip into underwear and pajamas before crawling under the covers. After a few sweet, slow kisses, Cas sighs and curls up against Dean, nose brushing his throat.

"Good night, Dean."

With a satisfied sigh, Dean kisses Cas' forehead and closes his eyes.

"Night, Cas."

For the first time in a long time, Dean willingly falls asleep before midnight on a Saturday.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, still not New Year's yet, but next time I promise.  
> But there's porn to soften the blow (haha, blow)  
> and a bit of angsty Dean backstory, explaining why he avoids relationships.

Sunday morning, Dean wakes up with a warm body pressed against his back, an arm around his waist, and breath tickling the hairs at his neck. He can’t remember ever waking up like this, and he savors it as long as possible, until his bladder threatens to let loose. After some careful maneuvering to get unwrapped from Cas, he makes it to the bathroom just in time.

Bladder empty, he thinks of crawling back into bed with Cas, but realizes they need to wash the guy’s work clothes. Gathering the shopping bags from yesterday, Dean sneaks downstairs to the building’s laundry room. Once he has a washer going, he comes back up and starts a pot of coffee. The sun’s not quite up yet, and Cas is going to have a very long first day at work, so Dean tries to be quiet to avoid waking him.

After his first cup of coffee, Dean sneaks back downstairs to put the clothes in a dryer, and he comes back up thinking of some breakfast. Remembering all the fun things he can do with biscuits, he  decides to make his dad’s campfire donuts. Of course, they’ll be made in a kitchen, but still.

Dean preps the cinnamon-sugar to dip them in, then heats a skillet with about an inch of oil in the bottom. His dad always used butter, but the popping and sizzling isn’t as attractive when he’s going to have to clean up after. The biscuits get rolled out a  bit, and he uses a bottle cap to punch out the hole. He places a few at a time in the hot oil, and flips them as soon as they're golden brown. When they’re done, he places them on a baking pan lined with paper towels to drain and cool. The last batch is all the donut holes. Once they’re all done, he rolls them on the powdered sugar and stacks them up on a plate. One donut and two holes later, he goes down to collect Cas’ dry clothes.

By the time Cas stumbles out of the bedroom, scratching his stomach and yawning, his hair standing up in all directions, Dean is at the couch, folding the last pair of slacks. Cas gives him a small smile before disappearing into the bathroom.

Looking at the freshly laundered clothing, Dean realizes Cas has nowhere to put them. He dashes into the bedroom and clears one of the top drawers of his dresser, and manages to cram in the last of Cas’ new clothes before he’s out of the bathroom. His new button-ups get hung in the closet, after Dean slides his own stuff over to make room.

It’s not until he’s watching Cas moan around his homemade donuts that he realizes he just gave Cas a whole drawer, and part of his closet. Just like a boyfriend. Shit.

Dean drops Cas off at the Roadhouse at eleven, so that the hiring paperwork can be filled out and Ellen can show Cas what to do before opening. He wishes the guy luck and waves, and waits until Cas is let into the building before driving back home.

As soon as he’s back inside his apartment, Dean has a minor mental freak-out, about how close he’s gotten to Cas in such a short amount of time. It’s happening all over again, where Dean ends up falling in love, just to be kicked to the curb once he’s no longer needed. Cas even already has a Boyfriend Drawer for Christ sakes.

After sitting on the couch with his head in his hands for a while, Dean calls Sam. They didn’t actually talk at Christmas, and Dean kind of feels bad. Sam’s still at his girlfriend's family’s place until after the new year; Dean can hear him excusing himself, and the soft thud of a door closing.

“Hey, Dean. How’s it going?”

Not quite ready to tell Sam about his colossal screw-up, Dean says, “Ehh, it’s going,” and prompts his brother to talk about how visiting the family is going for him.

Sam goes on about how great Jessica is, and how huge her family’s house is, and about how her family members reacted to him. Dean just sits back, commenting as necessary, and  lets his brother talk about how great everything is going. It’s bittersweet, hearing the pure joy in Sam’s voice.

Now, don’t get him wrong, he’s not necessarily jealous of his little brother. The kid deserves every happiness he can get. It’s just… Sam always seemed to be the enchanted child, the special one. While Dean was a troublemaker in school, Sam was the bookworm, the nerd. Even then Sam managed to stay relatively popular. Dean never really found his niche, and even though he played sports a bit, he was more of an outsider. In response to this, he developed a bit of a bad-boy persona in school.

After graduation, Dean really didn’t know what to do with his life, so instead of going to college, went to work full-time at Bobby’s garage. After all, his dad worked there. Dean had been doing part-time and summer work with Bobby since he was sixteen, and he’d taken apart and put back together the Impala in one of the work bays there. It just seemed the natural thing to do.

Now, looking back, he doesn’t really regret his decisions, but he is a little envious that Sam got to get out of town, see the world. Of course, Dean’s worked through his own wanderlust, taking week-long trips driving around the country in his Baby, but sometimes he wonders what he missed out on. And now of course, Sam’s got a girl, and it looks like it’s serious if he’s spending the holidays with her family. Caught in his musings, it takes him a while to realize Sam stopped talking.

He lets out a sigh, and Sam says, “Dean? are you okay?”

Running a hand over his face, Dean leans back into the couch. “I honestly don’t know, Sammy.”

He tells Sam about finding Cas in the snow, thawing him out, and that first morning. Sam’s suspiciously quiet, and Dean wonders if he’s making that disappointed bitchface right now.

“He liked your stupid tree, by the way.”

That gets a little laugh out of Sam, and Dean continues. He mentions about how his family kicked him out, and how all his shit got stolen, which led to him being passed out in the snow for Dean to find. Sam lets out a soft curse, “Shit, Dean.”

“Right? If I hadn’t found him…” Dean talks about how he intended for things to remain platonic, but during the Christmas party, well… it was only a kiss. Really. Just a kiss. Until it was more.

“Mom called me Christmas night,” Sam blurts. Oh, of course she did. “And she told me that you had a friend staying, but he looked more like a boyfriend. She said she was happy for you, that you’d finally found someone.”

Dean swallows thickly, not thinking that Mom might have told Sam about just how attached at the hip Dean and Cas might have seemed. He waits for Sam to start in on a lecture about shacking up with someone so fast, but Sam just asks him to continue, as if he can tell Dean still has more to say. Kid was always the smart one.

So he tells the rest of his story, fumbling around the more intimate parts, because Sam still gets grossed out at the mention of his brother and sex, and he doesn’t want to admit the emotions tied up with all of that. He mentions how Cas got the job at the Roadhouse, and winds down with another sigh.

“So he’s at work right now, and I’m freaking out, because I’m not supposed to fall in love, and it’s all gonna fall apart, and… just… Shit.”

“So you _are_ in love with him.”

Fuck, did he say that out loud? “I dunno, Sam. But I think so, yeah.”

“You should tell him.”

“Dude! We’ve known each other less than a week, he’s practically a virgin, and… if… he doesn’t feel the same, it will get all awkward.”

“And it’s not awkward now?”

Heh. Leave it to Sam to get to the heart of the matter. “Not all the time. And if I tell the guy how I feel, he might feel… I dunno, obligated to try to reciprocate, even if he doesn’t… Just, shut up, Sammy.”

Sam laughs lightly over the phone, and Dean wonders how it can feel like Sam’s the older brother sometimes. There’s a noise over the line, and Sam muffles the receiver, talking to someone. After a moment, he comes back on.

“Listen, I love talking to you, but we’re supposed to go do something, and they’re waiting on me. If you like, we can talk more about this later?”

“Nah, Sammy. Any more, and I might just start my period.”

“Shut up, jerk,” Sam laughs.

“Talk to you later, bitch.”

When he hangs up, Dean actually feels a lot better. Sure, he’s not really closer to a solution about Cas, but just being able to talk to someone, even if it is just over the phone, has calmed him. It seems like everyone thinks he and Cas should get together, but… There’s a reason Dean’s purposefully been a bit of a manwhore, having one night stands, and making no promises.

It was Amanda, who wanted to change him, and broke up with him when he refused to change. And Rhonda, who made him try on her panties, and then told the whole school. There was that summer on the coast, when he met Eric, his first guy, who promised to call or write, but never did.

Then there was Lisa. He and Lisa had met during one of his road trips, and after a weekend of amazing bendy sex, Dean had wanted to stay. But seeing as they were only about a half day’s drive away, she had convinced him they could make it work long-distance. And for a while, it had seemed to. Every weekend, he went to see her, spent Saturday night, and drove back Sunday, arriving back home late.

When Lisa told him she was pregnant, Dean was overwhelmed. He thought this was it, he was gonna have a family. But then she admitted that the baby wasn’t his. It shattered his fantasy of the family he thought he was going to have. She told him to stop coming by, that she and this other guy were going to make it work, that Dean was just a fling.

He was crushed after that, and Bobby made him take a few days off of work, because he was practically useless for a while. He recovered by shielding his heart, and going out to get drunk and screwing whoever was willing. He learned to not become too involved with anyone, how to not care if he left someone alone after sex. It didn’t make him a better person, but it let him move on.

There have been a couple close calls over the years, people who he’d been instantly drawn to. But as soon as he felt like that might become something more, he’d withdrawn.

But Cas… Due to circumstances, he crept past all Dean’s barriers, and now it’s too late. If Cas actually feels something more than just attraction for him as well, Dean’s unsure if he can resist. _But this time could be different_ , a corner of his brain offers. Nope, better to stop thinking that way, and prepare for the inevitable fallout, than to get his hopes up, only to have them crushed.

The rest of the day, Dean pokes around the apartment, plays a couple video games. Normally, he’d clean house, wash clothes, but Cas already did all that. Dinner is a boring old sandwich and a side of chips, because he’s sure Cas will eat something at work. There’s no way he’d wait until late at night to eat, right?

Dean arrives at the Roadhouse a little before eight, and it’s pretty crowded. He wanders in, keeping to the edges of the room, hoping to catch Cas at work. What he does see leaves him speechless.

Cas is at the corner of the bar, sipping on something dark in a glass through a straw. His shirt is unbuttoned and loose, showing off his form in one of the t-shirts he’d gotten yesterday. Leaning in, he’s listening to something Jo is telling him, and then he bursts into laughter. It’s like a ray of sunshine illuminates him. He’s seen Cas laugh before, but it’s like… finally acknowledging the way he feels about the man makes everything different. As he makes his way to the bar, Dean decides Cas needs to laugh more.

He makes sure Cas doesn't see him coming, and Dean snags the drink from his fingers, taking a sip. Huh, it’s just cherry cola. Cas spins around and his face lights up again at the sight of Dean.

“Dean! You’re early!”

Dean shrugs, face warming a bit at how happy Cas is to see him. “If Ellen let you off early, you could have called.”

“Oh, that’s not… I just finished loading the entirely enormous dish sanitizer, and Jo insisted I ‘take a load off’.” Damn, if those finger quotes of his aren’t endearing.

Dean pulls up a bar stool and sits next to Cas, “So how was your first day working in a hive of scum and villainy?”

He thinks he’s being clever, but Cas apparently doesn’t get that reference, and starts saying that most of the people he’s met this evening seemed to be relatively pleasant. That’s right, Cas has probably never seen Star Wars. Damn, did his family live under a rock? Ellen comes up to them from the working side of the bar, and tells Cas he’s good to go, and she’ll see him Tuesday, since they’re closed on Mondays.

Once in the car, Cas asks if Dean’s eaten. He had snacked at the bar, but wanted something different. “Honestly, after staring at all that fried food, I’m dying for something green.”

Jeez, Dean can imagine the triumphant look on Sam’s face now, another ally for the other side in the war of Dean’s diet. It’s not that Dean doesn’t like vegetables, they’re great in a sandwich, mixed in a stew. But all on their own, in a salad? Pass.

Dean glances over at Cas, decides he might be up for a slice of pie, and drives to a diner that he knows stays open late. Cas gets the chef salad, and Dean eyeballs the descriptor of the diner’s signature holiday pie. It’s labeled as:

> Amy’s Famous Holiday Pie

> Enjoy a warm slice of everything holidays, with this pie that contains: apples, cranberries, cherries, currants, diced figs, and covered with a crushed nut crumble of walnuts, pecans and brown sugar.  
>  _Ask for it with a scoop of our eggnog ice cream!_

Now, Dean normally likes a simple pie, but this sounds like the best parts of mince pie and fruitcake all rolled into one, with eggnog, too! How can he turn that down? He waits until the waiter brings Cas’ salad, then asks for the pie with ice cream. Cas gives him a dubious look, but at least it’s got fruit in it.

They sit in the diner, eating and talking. Cas, although tired, enjoyed his work, and except for a couple rude people, everything went well. Dean warns him that if he works New Year’s, it will be twice as crowded, everyone will be drunk, and there’s bound to be at least one brawl. Cas asks him if he’ll be there, and he says it’s practically tradition for him to show up at the Roadhouse for their New Year’s party. They turn on the big flatscreen normally reserved for sports, and watch the ball drop in New York, thus giving people a reason to get kissed at least twice, since they're an hour behind. Cas frowns and pecks at the remains of his salad.

“I never understood the kissing tradition. We were raised to believe it was a pagan tradition, and thus it was discouraged.”

Dean shrugs, “I dunno what started it, but if you think you’re getting out of a kiss that night, you better go hide, because everyone will be looking for a pair of free lips come midnight.”

“So people will kiss without the other’s permission?”

“Dude, most everyone’s drunk by then, and not thinking clearly. They don’t mean any harm.”

Cas’ frown deepens, “I don’t think I particularly like a tradition that involves forcing an intimate act upon someone not willing.”

“C’mon, it’s not like rape or something.”

Eyebrow raised, Cas gives Dean a look that says it’s practically the same thing. Maybe Dean’s just been jaded by all his years of casual hook-ups, but he just doesn’t see it as a big deal.

“Look, if it really upsets you that much, just make sure to find me before the last minute, alright? That is…” he rubs the back of his neck, “if you want to.”

Immediately, the dubious frown disappears, and Cas says, “Thank you for your consideration, Dean.”

It’s getting late; Cas had a long day and Dean has to work in the morning, so they head home and take turns with the shower before bed. Not every night has to be sexy fun times, after all. Once they’re settled in bed, they share a few kisses, then manage to find sleep.

The next couple of days, Dean’s feeling pretty good. Monday, he finally finds someone who can get the chrome trim for that Nomad he’s been restoring. When he gets home, Cas has dinner waiting for him. After that, he spends some time on his computer, and Cas reads one of Dean’s books. By the time Dean is ready for bed, Cas insists on staying up, to adjust to working afternoons and evenings. So after a brief kiss, Dean goes to bed, leaving Cas on the couch with a softly lit lamp at his side, book in hand.

Tuesday, Dean wakes up with Cas next to him, and he quickly silences the alarm, hoping he didn't wake the guy up. Cas is going to catch a ride to work with Ash, and Dean will come and get him at the end of his shift, like he did on Sunday. He gathers his clothes and gets dressed in the living room before heading to work.

When Dean sits down during his lunch break, Garth stops by and asks about how things are going.

“Things’re good, man. How about you?”

This opens up Garth’s chatterbox, and he rambles on about this girl he’s dating while Dean finishes his lunch. He’s used to this, and knows to nod and grunt when appropriate to keep the man from turning the conversation back to him. Dean’s almost finished with his sub sandwich when Garth asks about Dean’s “house guest”. He keeps his answers brief, telling Garth that Cas is doing well, and that he’s working at the Roadhouse now. This prompts Garth to talk about just about every job he’s ever had since his first lemonade stand.

As soon as Dean finishes his sandwich, he tells Garth he’s going to go back to work, and spends the last few minutes of his lunch break fiddling with his tool box to look busy in case Garth comes back by. He likes the kid, but Dean wishes he’d not try to always fill in the empty spaces with words.

After work, Dean makes a quick stop by the store to pick up something for dinner. He decides on a rotisserie chicken, and picks up a bag of salad mix for Cas. He heads out to the Roadhouse a half hour early this time, and watches Cas bus tables. He likes watching him bend over and wipe down the tables with a rag, and waits until Cas has disappeared into the back room before making his presence known to Ellen, who’s currently pouring beers from tap.

“Hey, Dean. You gonna hang around, or just here for Cas?”

He shrugs, watching as she places the beer on a cardboard coaster a couple seats down the bar. “Depends on if he wants to eat now or later.”

“Honestly, I’m glad you brought him by. He’s a hard worker, and learns fast. Although, he’s got a quirky sense of humor.”

“Yeah, doesn't get references, but likes dry humor?”

Ellen serves Dean a glass of water with a slice of lemon. “Well, he’s probably finishing with his duties right now, so think about if I can get you anything stronger.”

She goes back to work, mixing drinks and serving beers, until Jo takes over. He’s watched them work like this in a smooth coordinated dance since Jo was old enough to serve, even before she had her license. They take the bar in turns, and swap out so the other can do something different for a while. They overlap more during peak hours, weekends and holidays when it’s more busy, and the system ensures that whoever’s tending the bar doesn't burn out.

Dean’s twisting the rind of his lemon slice, when Cas’ familiar voice rumbles in his ear, “Hello, Dean.”

He’s standing close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him, and Dean has to hold himself back from giving the guy a hug and kiss right there. Tonight, his shirt’s mostly buttoned, with the top two undone.

“So how was work?”

“Fine, but tiring. Do you mind if we just go home?”

“Sure thing, Cas. If you’re hungry, I got something for you.”

“That sounds good. Let me get my coat, and we can go.”

Once in the car, Cas slumps in his seat. Something must have happened to make him this tired.

“You sure everything at work was fine? You seem pretty tired.”

There's a groan, and Cas slips further down into his seat. “A large group of women came in after work, and proceeded to sexually harass me.”

His second day, and he’s finally discovering the wonders of wait service in a bar. “What did you do about it?”

Cas scowls, his face turned to the window. “I spoke with Ellen, and she sent me to the kitchen until the group of women left. Then, she told me I needed to learn defensive techniques.”

Defensive techniques? Just what did they do? “Jeez, man. Sounds rough. What did they do to you?”

He straightens up in his seat, and tells Dean about how the entire group of women stared at him, complimented his posterior, and made sexually suggestive comments. Apparently, one asked if he could go home with her and let her have a ride.

Dean can’t help but laugh, and Cas scowls at him. “Dude, they were basically flirting with you!”

“If an advance is unwanted, it’s considered harassment though, right?”

Dean shakes his head and tries to explain that in the service industry, you have to deal with a lot of shit. And for the most part, you have to smile through it. “If your boss had been anyone else but Ellen, they would have told you to suck it up.”

“So what you’re telling me, is that such unwanted advances are common, and expected at such establishments?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“I may wish to rethink my choice to work at the Roadhouse then.”

By now, they’re back at the apartment, and after Dean gets Cas’ dinner ready, he sits down and explains what Ellen meant by defensive techniques. You learn how to steer the conversation to other topics, and you let them know, while still being polite and as friendly as possible, that you’re not interested. Once he learns and gets used to giving the right social cues, the harassment aspect of it lessens.

Cas still seems a bit dubious about it all, so after he’s eaten, Dean clears the table and has Cas pretend to take his order at the bar.

“But I don’t have my apron or notepad.”

“It’s okay, we’re just pretending.”

Dean waves at Cas like he’s ready to order a drink, and Cas comes over to him.

“What can I get for you this evening?”

“Hey there tall and handsome, are you new here?”

This immediately makes Cas blush, and stammer. “I, umm… Yes, I’m still in training.”

Oh man, this is too easy. Dean gives him his winning smile, “Well, I’m sure you’re gonna do juuust fiiine.” He slowly looks Cas up and down, obviously checking him out.

Cas blushes harder, “There! That’s the look those women kept giving me! Except… I feel different when you look at me like that.”

Damn, Cas looking all shy and blushy, it makes him want to pull the man into his lap. “It’s fine, just keep asking what I want.”

“Umm. So, what can I get for you?”

“Hmm, I dunno. I can’t make up my mind. Maybe you can help me decide?”

“I will do my best.”

Dean pauses, giving Cas his most smoldering look.

“I was thinking of maybe a Slippery Nipple…” He casually rubs his hand on his chest, and locks eyes with Cas.

“Or maybe a Blowjob?” As he licks his lips, Cas swallows.

“But I’m really leaning toward a Screaming Orgasm.”

By now, Cas is completely flustered, and if Dean’s not mistaken, starting to develop an erection.

“Wh… why must there be so many sexually themed types of drink?”

Dean puts on a wolfish grin, reaches up and grabs Cas’ wrist, pulling into his lap. “That’s because,” he blows into his ear, causing a shiver, “people go to bars to have fun. And wouldn't you say sex is fun?”

Cas whimpers, and Dean leans in close whispering hot in his ear, “so… which drink do you think I should order?”

Cas shivers, the straightens, pulling away from Dean. Wait, what did he do wrong? When Cas stands up, he gives Dean a heated look. “I think I can suggest a combination for your evening’s pleasure, if I may be so bold.”

Ohh, okay. Cas is getting back into character. This could be fun. “Well then, what do you suggest?”

“There’s one drink you forgot to mention. May I suggest you start with a French Kiss?” Cas presses his hands to Dean’s shoulders and leans in, their lips a mere inch apart.

“Yeah,” Dean whispers, “I think I’d like to try that.”

And oh, this is what Dean likes, when his partner takes control. Cas presses their lips together, sliding his tongue into Dean’s mouth, forcing his head back as he leans over while Dean stays seated. One hand slides behind Dean’s head, and the other caresses his chest. Way too soon, Cas pulls away, flushed and sexy as fuck, his lips slightly parted.

A little breathless, Dean asks, “And what do you suggest I try next?”

Cas slips a knee between Dean’s, and slowly kneels before him. This is getting interesting, Dean thinks. When Cas is kneeling on the floor, he slides his hands up Dean’s shirt, exposing his torso.

“I was thinking that next, you might like a slippery nipple.”

“Mmmm, that does sound good.”

Dean is surprised by Cas’ initiative as he watches the man lean forward and flick his tongue against his nipple, making him gasp. Cas swirls his tongue around, then lightly nibbles it with his teeth. Dean groans, arching his back. He wants Cas to know he’s enjoying it.

“That is really great Cas… But, uhh… what do you think I should have next?”

Cas leans back on his heels, and looks like he’s not sure about the next part.

“C’mon, I've liked everything else so far, what’s your next suggestion?”

With squared jaw, Cas takes a deep breath and says, “A Blowjob.”

Dean nearly chokes on his tongue. Jesus. He wasn't expecting Cas to want to try that so soon, and it has him harder than a steel rod in his pants. If he doesn't get Cas’ mouth on his cock tonight he just might cry. But if Cas isn't sure…

“Listen, dude, if you’re not comfortable with this…”

“Dean,” Cas gives him a hot as fuck stern look, “Do you want a Blowjob or not?”

He can’t help but close his eyes and reply, “Fuuuuck, yes.”

He opens his eyes when he feels Cas’ hands trail down to the top of his pants and fumble with the button. Once he gets the zipper down, he pauses, like he’s not quite sure how to get Dean’s cock out of his underwear. It’s adorable as fuck, because Cas is basically learning how to do this with Dean.

“Cas,” Dean whispers, hoping to help without being too pushy, “Just like the other night, on the couch.”

Cas nods, and when Dean lifts up, he manages to get the jeans past his hips. When Dean lowers his butt back into the chair, Cas reaches forward and trails his fingers across the front of Dean’s boxer-briefs. Damn, it’s amazing how much a simple touch from Cas can drive him crazy.

“These too?” Cas asks, as he grasps the waistband of his underwear.

“Yeah, sure.” Dean rasps out. He lifts his hips again, and can practically feel the hot stare that Cas gives his cock. Oh God, this is really happening. Dean bites his bottom lip to keep a whimper from escaping, he wants this so bad.

Cas runs the pad of his index finger down the length, and Dean’s cock jumps at the touch. He trails it down to Dean’s balls, and damn, he could almost come right now, looking at the way Cas catalogues every reaction. His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted, the tip of the tongue between his teeth, like he wants to taste. And that thought makes his cock twitch again.

Finally, Cas grasps Dean’s cock and he looks up at him before lowering his head. By now, Dean's panting, trying to not grind his hips up at that opening mouth. There’s an infinitesimal pause just before he wraps his lips around the head of Dean's cock, and when it’s finally enveloped in that soft, wet heat, Dean grabs the edge of the chair, grits his teeth, and _moans_.

Emboldened by the reaction, Cas slides his mouth down further. _Shit, shit, shit, I've gotta warn him_ … But before Dean can make words come out of his mouth, Cas slides Dean’s cock far enough in that he chokes, and pulls off coughing. Dammit.

“Shit, sorry. should have warned you… Deepthroating isn't gonna happen magically your first time.”

Cas gives Dean’s cock an almost offended look, then up at his face, “But I want to do this _right_.”

“OK, OK.” Dean takes a deep breath to clear his head, “Just… uhh… bottom half like you’re jerking off, mouth around the top?”

“And that’s still a blowjob?”

“Man, there are so many different ways to give a blowjob. Yeah, it is, and I’m sure, whatever you do, it will be astounding.”

Cas nods, and takes Dean's spit slicked cock back into his hand.

“So I do this,” he gives it a squeeze and a little stroke, “And this?” And that hot, wet mouth wraps around the head again.

“Yeeeessss,” Dean groans.

The tip of Cas’ tongue flicks against the frenulum, and Dean chokes back a shout, gripping the edge of his chair tight, trying to not jerk his hips. Jesus, fucking, wept, this feels so good. His arms are shaking with the effort of holding himself still as Cas’ mouth slips further down, taking more of his cock into his mouth. And then, oh God, he starts sucking.

“Fuck, Cas, YES!”

Encouraged, Cas starts bobbing his head along with his fist, suckling and licking up and down what he’s not got that hand wrapped around. Everything else around him goes fuzzy, and all Dean can focus on is Cas, with his cock in his mouth. Cas, driving him crazy, as he tries to not jerk his hips up, so he doesn't choke. Cas, whose other hand is stroking the inside of his thigh, soothing, thumb drawing circles near the crease of his groin.

“Fuckin’ close, Cas… gonna come so fucking hard,” Dean grates, in between panted breaths. He’s gonna have a heart attack, right here and now, and die happy, his cock in Cas’ mouth.

A couple of strokes later and he loses it, he doesn't have time to warn him, he’s shooting into Cas’ mouth, and his eyes roll into the back of his head.

Dean has no idea when he regained the ability to think anything other than _YES_! but when he does, Cas is sitting on his heels, an odd look on his face. _He swallowed my come_ , is all that Dean can think about right now, as he gasps for air.

Once he’s able to speak, Dean wheezes out, “That… was really great, Cas.”

Cas licks his lips, and looks up at Dean. “It seems you got a bonus Screaming Orgasm as well.”

And that’s it, Dean drags him off to the bedroom for some enthusiastic reciprocation, making sure that Cas screams his name before he’s through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear guys, New Year's will actually happen next chapter, but...  
> It appears that if brevity is the soul of wit, then I'm completely witless.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These two gross people finally make it to New Year's Eve.  
> Have a whole heaping pile of fluff, with a porn finisher.

December thirty-first, Dean has to work until early afternoon. He’s planning on heading to the Roadhouse as soon as he gets cleaned up, and he’s there in an actual pair of slacks, a button-up, sweatervest and jacket. What? He wants to look nice for Cas.

That, and layers are important, and it’s freaking cold. Even though there will be a lot of people generating body heat, you never know if you’re going to end up standing by a door, or in one of the less-crowded area in the back, making out with someone.

Okay, so maybe he’s been fantasizing about sneaking off with Cas during the party, making out and groping him in a closet during breaks. Shut up.

By the time he arrives, it’s still mostly regulars. The party won’t really get hopping until about nine, when the partiers start to come out. And by eleven, it’s gonna be packed. The whole place is decorated with streamers, a big Happy New Year! banner hangs above the bar. From where he can see, Ellen’s wearing a ridiculous party hat behind the bar.

Let’s see, usually at New Year’s, there’s an extra beer station… There it is, over near the pool table is a portable bar, and Jo’s working a keg, another party hat perched jauntily on her head. But so far, he hasn’t seen Cas.

While Dean makes his way over to Ellen, Cas comes out of the employee’s door, carrying a crate of clean glasses. He doesn’t look happy, and he’s got a Happy New Year headband on. Once he sets down the crate, Dean can also make out that Cas is not wearing his button-up, he’s wearing a sparkly purple vest over his black t-shirt instead. And around his neck are multiple strings of beads, usually reserved for Mardi Gras. Man, if they’re not careful Cas is gonna quit before the end of the night.

Dean calls over to Cas, and tells Ellen he’s going to borrow her errand boy.

“You get fifteen, then he’s gotta relieve Jo at the portable!”

He drags Cas back through the employee door, waves at Ash as he bypasses the kitchen, and stops in the hallway that leads to Ellen’s office.

“What did they do to you?”

Cas frowns and plucks at the vest, “They told me I wasn’t properly festive. This was their solution.”

He’s gotta admit, Cas does look quite… festive, and maybe just a little too sexy. Even with the vest. Okay, so it might be giving Dean fantasies of Cas as a stripper. Don’t judge.

“Man, I’m gonna have to warn you, looking like that? Expect a bit more than verbal harassment.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dude, you look fuckin’ hot, and there’s gonna be hands on you at some point tonight. Drunk people get gropey. Hell, I wanna get a little gropey right now.”

Cas’ eyes widen, he glances behind Dean, and pulls him closer to Ellen’s door.

“What’s stopping you?” he says in a low voice.

That’s all it takes, before Dean’s letting out a punched breath, and yanking Cas to him with a handful of beads, kissing open-mouthed and sloppy. He reaches down and grabs a handful of ass, grinding up against him. Before Dean can sport more than a half-chub, he backs off, and looks at how he’s made Cas all flushed and half-lidded. All he needs is the messy hair, and work be damned, Dean would find an empty room with a lock.

Clearing his throat, Dean says. “Well, uhh, your break’s gonna be over soon. We should quit lurking in hallways.”

Before he can pull away, Cas takes off a string of shiny blue beads and slips them over Dean’s head. He pushes Dean against the wall, giving a quick kiss, before whispering, “You’re going to pay for that later, Winchester.”

As Cas walks away, straightening himself before going back out into the public, Dean murmurs. “I really hope so.”

***

Through the rest of the evening, it gets more crowded the closer to midnight it gets. Dean spends his time playing pool, ands manages to win a little money doing it, too. He drinks some cheap beer to stay near the portable bar while Cas is on duty there. It seems that wearing Cas’ beads, and keeping near him, has helped keep others from being overly gropey. At ten thirty, he also helps change out the kegs.

Just before eleven, as expected, the party picks up and it becomes more difficult to keep an eye on Cas. When the ball drops in New York, Dean has lost sight of him, and misses his opportunity with the first round of kissing. He barely manages to avoid the advances of a very drunk college-age girl who is very persistent. When he does find Cas again, he manages to snag a kiss on the cheek, at least.

One of the things Dean’s always helped with on New Year’s Eve, is to act as a temporary bouncer. He helps break up a couple of fights, lets Ellen know who to stop serving because they’re one shot away from passing out, and he calls a couple cabs or arranges transportation for those who really shouldn’t be driving.

A little after eleven, he slips into the kitchen and makes a sandwich for Cas, and forces him to take a break and eat something. But Cas is insistent he has to watch the keg, and Dean shoves him off, saying he can handle it for fifteen minutes. Cas says that’s cheating, but he eventually goes to eat his sandwich.

By eleven thirty, Dean has to play doorman, and he’s glad he wore the sweatervest and jacket, because it’s cold by the front door. They’re dangerously close to getting a citation for breaking fire code, as many people that are crammed in there.

At about ten till midnight, the influx of partiers levels off, because anyone that’s anywhere is waiting for the countdown. It’s too crowded, and Dean’s stuck, he can’t find Cas. There’s just too many people. Even the stupid headband doesn’t help, because half the crowd’s wearing something similar.

Five till midnight, and Cas isn’t at the keg. Ash said Cas was busing tables, or serving champagne, he couldn’t tell which.

Two minutes. Dean finds Ellen, who is wearing a string of Cas’ beads. All she does is wink and grin when Dean asks her about it.

One minute. Dean spies Cas at the other end of the bar, a tray of champagne flutes in his hand, but he disappears before Dean can get to him.

Seconds to go. Jo and Cas are side by side, each holding a champagne flute, next to the jukebox and standing on step-stools so they can see above the crowd. Cas is looking around, possibly trying to find Dean. But even if he waves his hands, there are too many people around him, screaming the countdown.

_Ten!_

Cas finally sees him, their eyes lock.

_Nine!_

they’re too far away, and a bunch of people are crowded around the jukebox.

_Eight!_

Cas waves at him.

_Seven!_

Dean waves back.

_Six!_

Cas holds up his champagne flute, and shrugs.

_Five!_

Dean holds up the red plastic beer cup he’s been carrying around everywhere.

_Four!_

Cas smiles at him.

_Three!_

Dean smiles back.

_Two!_

Jo hands Cas a party popper.

_One!_

Cas struggles to hold it for popping while holding the champagne glass

_HAPPY NEW YEAR!_

Everyone shouts, Cas and Jo pop their poppers, sending confetti and streamers over the closest in the crowd. Jo takes a quick drink from her champagne, grabs Cas, and plants a quick one right on his lips. Cas looks stunned as Jo removes a string of beads from around his neck. Dammit! Does that mean Ellen got to him too, since she’s got beads? Dean keeps his beer cup to his lips to avoid anyone trying to kiss him, although he does get a couple random, sloppy pecks on the cheek.

As soon as he can, Dean drags Cas to a corner and gets his kiss, a couple minutes late. He wraps his arms around Cas possessively, and crowds him into the corner. Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s neck, and they kiss until the people around them start catcalling.

“I should get back to work,” says Cas, blushing heavily. Dean nods, and reluctantly lets him go.

The partiers slowly start drifting out after the initial fervor dies down, and by twelve-thirty, Dean’s at the door again making sure that those who are too drunk to drive have a ride home. after the crowd has thinned out to manageable levels, Dean helps Cas load the sanitizer, which is basically an industrial dishwasher, full of glassware.

By one-thirty in the morning, the bar’s mostly empty, except for a handful of hangers-on. Cas is taking a breather, hair dishevelled, vest swapped out for his button-up. He’s sagging, his feet propped up on a chair. Dean’s tired too, he got up early and worked, before coming here and basically working again. But he insists on staying until Cas is free to go, and then he’s going to drive him home.

It’s not long before Ellen chases them out, reminding Cas they’re closed tomorrow to recover from tonight. Dean pulls out his keys, and Cas asks if he should be driving.

“Dude, all I’ve had tonight is three, maybe four cups of that cheap beer.  It’s basically pisswater, and that much is barely enough to get buzzed, especially after spacing it out over all damn night.

Cas gives him a worried look, and Dean’s too tired for this. Not thinking, he says, “ _You_ wanna drive, then?”

It strikes Dean all of a sudden what just came out of his mouth. Cas wont realize it, but _nobody_ drives Baby but him. Okay, Sam did a couple times, And Bobby all of once. But without even thinking about it, he basically offered the keys to Cas.

He watches, frozen, as Cas reaches out for the keys, but pulls back. “Are you sure you will be alright?”

“Yeah Cas I’m just tired. Can we go home now?”

They make it back to the apartment with no trouble, and Dean’s the first in, dashing for the bathroom because while the beer he drank was cheap, that’s still a lot of water. They stumble about getting ready for bed, becoming more and more tired as they go. Eventually they both flop down on the bed.

Dean looks over at Cas, “Man, I was expecting to fool around.”

Cas gives him a sleepy smile, “Sorry Dean. Morning?”

Dean grunts and nods, “Morning.”

***

Dean wakes up to Cas, half-asleep, rutting against his leg. Oh, Hell yes, this is what he missed out on last night. He’s reaching for Cas, thinking about getting some of that, and then he wakes up enough to realize how his mouth tastes. Nope, not kissing Cas with this. First stop, toothbrush.

After convincing Cas to crawl out of bed to brush their teeth, they make out on the way back from the bathroom, all minty-fresh. Kissing lazily, they collapse in a tangle of arms and legs back onto the bed.

They take their time, no real goal in mind, just enjoying their pleasure. They’re laying on their sides, facing each other. At one point,Cas slides his leg up along Dean’s hooking his ankle around a calf. Dean reaches down and grabs a nice handful of ass, massaging it through pajama pants. Cas rolls his hips, and Dean slips his hand down under the fabric, still just slowly kissing, as he grazes down Cas’ asscrack. There’s no major reaction, so he reaches lower, causing Cas’ leg to hike higher up his thigh. At this new angle, he can reach around and tease the back of Cas’ balls.

Cas groans into his mouth, and leans back to give him a stern look. “You’re not playing fair, Dean.”

“Shh,” Dean nuzzles Cas’ chin, places a kiss on the cleft. “Lemme show you something new.”

This causes Cas’ breath to hitch, and he nods eagerly before kissing Dean deeply. Dean kisses down Cas’ throat as he scoots lower for easier reach with what he wants to do. Nibbling at the ridge of a collarbone, Dean strokes the back of Cas’ balls again, feeling them draw up at the contact. Then he strokes further back, and presses at Cas’ perineum. Cas jerks and lets out a small noise.

“You alright?”

“Yes, Dean that was… surprisingly pleasant.”

“Can I show you more?” Dean asks, kissing up the side of Cas’ neck.

“ _Yes_ ,” Cas sighs.

Using gentle pressure, Dean explores between Cas’ legs, allowing him to get used to the sensation of touch behind his balls. He rubs circles against the perineum, and caresses Cas’ ass. With the pads of his fingers, Dean rubs between the cheeks, lightly teasing Cas’ hole. He never stays too long, moving on to other areas, gauging the reactions. It makes Cas relax, languidly rolling his hips, but not pressing for firmer stimulation.

Once he feels Cas is used to the attention down there, Dean pulls back and reaches for the lube and a towel. Cas gives him an odd look, but Dean reminds him that he’ll enjoy it, just like their very first time. This makes Cas shiver at the memory, and he says, “Then what are you waiting for?”

Dean gets Cas to remove his pajamas and underwear, then agrees to strip down as well, but leaves his boxer-briefs on, saying that his own cock isn’t a participant in this activity yet, and he’ll be less distracted if it stays tucked away. Bad enough that Dean’s already hard and leaking for Cas, but if he’s just waving free, it will be too tempting to take this further than he wants it to.

They settle back into position similar to how they were before, but Dean has scooted even lower, so that he has more mobility and reach for his hands. He pulls Cas’ leg up and wraps it around his torso, hiking his knee up high. Popping the top of the lube, Dean slicks his fingers and warms them up before giving Cas’ balls a little massage before working back behind.

Dean kisses Cas’ chest, whispers encouraging words, as Cas runs his fingers through his hair, trails his hands along his shoulders. Now that everything is slick, Dean can rub a little firmer around Cas’ hole. When Cas is relaxed enough, Dean can feel his hole kind of draw his finger in. If everything goes well, Cas won’t freak.

“Dean?!”

Oh well. He can already feel Cas tighten up, and he slips the tip of his finger out with a sigh.

“It’s okay, Cas.”

“But… nothing’s supposed to go in there!”

Leave it to Dean to find himself a homosexual partner with anal issues.

“It’s alright, Cas.”

He slides up and gives Cas a peck on the lips. “If you're not ready for it, then we don’t have to do it.”

Cas can’t seem to look him in the eye, “Is, um, is this a normal activity?”

Chuckling against his neck, Dean strokes Cas’ chest lightly with the hand that isn’t covered in lube. “Maybe not where you’re from, but even straight couples do this sometimes.”

“Oh. Well… it wasn’t necessarily _bad_ or anything…”

Dean hums, nibbles at Cas’ neck, slides his dry hand down to tease the hairs above Cas’ cock. “You wanna try it again?”

“I…” Cas bites his lip, “Will you go slow?”

“Of course, Cas.” Dean leans back, “But you gotta promise me one thing.”

“Yes, Dean?”

He leans back in and rubs their noses together, “You gotta tell me what’s working and what isn’t, okay? This is for you, and it’s supposed to feel good. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Dean slicks up his hand some more, and goes back to pressing Cas’ perineum, but gets back to rubbing around his hole with intent. He pays attention to Cas’ reactions, and is happy to see him relax into it again. As soon as his finger gets drawn in again, he holds it there, and looks up to see Cas making a face similar to tasting something he’s not sure he likes.

“Doing good?”

“Is this it? Because it doesn’t necessarily feel pleasurable.”

With a smile, Dean twirls his finger a bit, “I’m not even in all the way yet, you gotta wait until I find the good part.”

Once Cas nods, Dean presses his finger in deeper, slowly. He explores the inside, feeling the walls, stroking toward where he knows Cas’ prostate should be. As soon as he grazes that slightly firmer bump, Cas gasps. Jackpot. Dean swipes his finger gently from side to side, letting Cas get used to the sensation.

“Oh! Umm, Dean, I think… I feel like I need to pee.”

“Mmmm hmm,” Dean kisses his chest, “That’s normal for your first time. Don’t worry, you won’t wet the bed.”

Taking Cas’ cock in hand, he eases him to full hardness, and then begins a circular massage, swirling up against his prostate, and Cas gasps.

“Deeeean! This, I… oh!”

And there it is, Cas finally feels what it’s like. Using gentle pressure, Dean continues to stroke Cas’ prostate, slowly pulling on his cock, and he watches as Cas falls apart, sobbing, grasping tightly to his shoulders. Cas’ cock is dripping, and Dean knows he’s gonna come soon.

When Cas comes, it’s not with a shout, but a whine. Dean can feel Cas’ body prepare for it, as his muscles tighten, his cock hardens even more, the prostate swells, and Cas shudders. Dean wishes he could kiss Cas through it, but they will definitely be doing this again, and he knows better positions that will allow kissing.

He’s proud of himself, because he has practically forgotten about his own dick while paying so much attention to Cas. With Cas now a twitching, boneless puddle, Dean’s cock reminds him that it’s been ignored. He reaches for it, but Cas grunts out a “No.”

Dean settles for rutting against Cas’ thigh while he recovers, pressing kisses to his chest and shoulders, sliding up to capture those lips. He knows Cas has mostly recovered when a hand unceremoniously dips into his underwear.

“Do I get to do that to you, now?” Cas’ voice is extra-rough, and the low rumble runs down Dean’s spine.

“There’s a bit you need to know before you jump in, so we’ll avoid the back entrance for now Cas.”

Cas pouts, actually _pouts_ in response.

“Next time, okay? But I’ll need to explain some things”

“Alright, I’ll settle for this.”

Cas kisses Dean deeply, and uses both hands to employ every little trick he’s learned to make Dean come hard and fast. While Dean recovers, Cas tosses the now very-well used towel to the floor, and snuggles into Dean.

“Shower, then out for breakfast?” says Cas.

As if in response, Dean’s stomach gurgles. “Yeah,” Dean laughs, “cleanup and then food sounds great.”

Before they roll off the bed to head for the shower, Cas catches Dean’s hand and kisses the palm.

“Dean, thank you.”

This makes Dean grin, “Yeah, you too, Cas.”

“No, I mean…” he presses a hand to Dean’s chest, right above his heart. “You've showed me so much, and have been there for me. I've felt things I didn't know were possible.”

He leans up on an elbow, looking down at Dean, “Dean, I… I think… I lo—”

Dean places a hand to Cas' mouth, heart thumping hard in his chest. He’s not ready to hear that, not ready to accept what it could mean.

“Not yet, Cas.”

Cas murmurs against his hand, and Dean shakes his head. “I’m plenty screwed up, and you don’t know enough about me to say that yet. Save it, until you’re sure.”

Cas nods, and Dean removes his hand. “Does this mean you don’t…”

“Oh, God no Cas. What I feel for you…” he thinks of how to say it, “I didn't think I was allowed to have this. But with you, I want it. That’s why I don’t want you to say it yet, why I can’t. We both gotta be sure.”

“Good things do happen Dean, and you deserve them.”

“Yeah, well…” Dean gives a little half smile, “Maybe you can spend some time convincing me?”

Cas gives him a kiss, and sits up. “First, breakfast.”

Dean lets him have the first shower, and as he hears the water come on, he whispers, “And if I get the chance, I’ll spend every day showing you that you’re worth it, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe this was supposed to be a quick porn drabble?  
> I have so much more I want to do with these guys, And I might come back with a second story, turn this into a 'verse.  
> But I'm putting these boys to bed, and getting back to my neglected projects.
> 
> Until next time, ta-ta for now!


End file.
